A Cold Gray Sunday Morning

I woke up Sunday morning, too early as usual thanks to Lupe and Layli, to a cold, gray, foggy day. This kind of weather probably makes most people depressed, or at least want to stay in all curled up on a nice warm comforter...

(Tippy joon)

... but not me. Perhaps it's all those years as a child of outdoorsy parents, living in northern Illinois where six months of the year can produce days like this. Regardless of the weather we went out, and not just to go shopping for necessities, but out in order to go out. Out, as in, outside... on purpose.

I went for a walk in the neighborhood, without my iPod, just like Henry David Thoreau would have. (Thoreau would never have brought his iPod!) It allowed me to be silent with myself, listening only to the few birds singing their morning arias and two squirrels chasing each other in spiral fashion down a tree.

I love to look up at the tops of trees that only a month ago would never have revealed the nests they were hiding for their occupants. Now, they must reveal.

Remember this picture from last month?

This morning it looked like this.

Even a neighbor's Christmas decorations were too cold and tired to stand up straight, like so many dead bodies just waiting for their life-giving hot air.

Yet even in all things dark and dreary there are bursts of color. Look closer...

... at the life within those seemingly only dark green boughs.

Look closer at the life springing up under those spent brown leaves...

... and see what could be mistaken for spring shoots.

Jewels of earth robed in white and purple...

... and yellow and red.

Green moss brightly peeking skyward, watching the geese fly south.

The pale Gothic beauty of the underside of a leaf.

The surprise of a cluster of fresh berries against a backdrop of dying leaves.

Then more purple orbs amongst the bright green leaves of a rebel that refuses to go brown.

Then preposterously prolific purple pandemonium!

And Mother Nature's wisdom in falling a tree to bar the way to human venture. I stepped over it anyway... sorry Mother... I wanted to explore a bit and then look back at my impudence.

As I walked the sun began to peek out between the gray clouds. Once home I went upstairs to find Banu curled up on the wool afghan, soaking up the hot sun beginning to stream through the window. I had to kiss the soft warm fur of her tummy before I could go start the laundry. Back to reality.