Today it was grey...real grey. Which didn’t come as much of a surprise, most days around the PNW are. It feels as if everyone who occupies the region has generally, witty and optimistic explanations for each days weather report that fills the passing months: April showers, May grey, June gloom, no-sky July, August fog-ust, and so on. Regardless of any explanation, there’s two things I’m sure of:
1. It was grey enough to not be able to see a darn thing. So while I wasn’t alone, the visibility helped me to feel alone.
2. Aside from occasional conversations conducted with carefully selected crap hawks- Some days it feels good to feel alone, even if it is just barely.
Initially, I thought I would feel lonely through time spent alone. I found that loneliness doesn’t come with being alone, but rather the exact opposite.
Today I felt one with the grey, grey, and more grey. I felt cradled by the walls of my happy puddle, which of course, was the thick layer of fog in every direction.
Ah the Chinese finger trap that is companionship. The curiosity followed by the craving for, then the straying from, and all of that playful crap in between. .
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