We’re in my least-favorite season: the season of gray. The glories of fall are over, but winter hasn’t started yet. All the color seems to have washed away. When I take a walk now, this is what I see:
The field of wildflowers and butterflies is now just a collection of dead stalks and dried leaves.
The trees are bare, falling down, decaying.
Above the edge of the roof-lines, the sky has lost every hint of color.
It’s like watching the world in grayscale instead of color. My mind feels as dull as the clouds outside. Do animals feel the same way? If they do, no wonder so many of them hibernate. Maybe I could crawl into a little den somewhere, and sleep until spring…