There’s been very little variance in the weather since we’ve returned home; every day has greeted us with the same grey, dismal, rainy, slightly clammy climate. I’ve been gone for the majority of the past six weeks in some sort of never-ending road trip (and I’m sort of wishing I were headed off someplace again.) Sometimes I have to remind myself that the weather here is not always like this.

The lovely part of the dismal days is how the greyness pairs with the newly-sprung-green of the leaves. The dreary weather can’t mute that shade of green. It only augments it.

If the month of April has made a ritual of endless rain (April showers and all) then my answer has been this: to come down the stairs to a darkened room, to light a candle, to turn on Timbre’s Moon disc to the first track (listen to it here), to turn on the water for coffee, and to just dwell on the windowpane-framed view of the backyard, overcast, the deep browns and greys overcome by almost flourescent green.

Maybe there should be more to a post than this. Frequently I err on the side of “no one cares to know” concerning these small moments in the day. They are more felt than factual; they are difficult to describe. But today, I shrugged off the misgivings and took pictures instead. It’s my ritual.


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