I think today it is
grey and dismal all across the world, although looking at a weather map of the
United States I notice that only
the Northeast is
under the clouds - regardless,
the darkness of the sky is
accentuated by the streams of
runoff from all the black
umbrellas dancing down the walk.
New York is a cold, rainy soup bowl.
When I awoke this morning I was convinced the clock was lying. Besides the stark and glowing red numerals staring at me and the news in French that I listen to every morning in a half-dreaming daze my room certainly didn't have the quality of light that one expects when you sleep without window dressings.
I'm continually reminded of how much our moods are affected by the sky. Today I am listless. No energy to work, no energy to node, no energy to be excited and thrilled. Today I will do what is required of me and nothing more. I don't have any more to offer.
It's not the rain, or the darkness, or the cold. All those things apart from one another and even together generate different effects in me - cold is exhilarating, especially when it's crisp and crystal clear - you feel as if you can see for miles and the clarity of vision reaches into your very soul. Darkness has its own incentives for I'm fond of intrigues and the privacy that the lack of light affords, and the rain always encourages me to take off my shoes and run...
...not that one would/could do that in New York City. But we can dream of elsewhere.