yellow and grey

There are only two kinds of mornings: yellow and grey. They are all bleary. We have light reducing shades in our room, so I never know what kind of day it will be until I open the blinds. The first thing I notice is whether it is "yellow" outside or "grey." It's interesting that my brain doesn't comprehend blue sky. I think it's because I'm always looking out at the backyard and the sun catches the highlights on the grass and turns them a color that my early-morning blinkery blink blink scrunchy-faced filter processes as "yellow." In the absence of yellow, I look to the sky and see only grey.

Grey is beautiful, but I appreciate yellow now, too -- more than I think I ever have. It used to be L's favorite color (until recently) and I got some colored pencils that have about twenty shades of it. I never thought about twenty shades of yellow before. I know there are hundreds of shades of grey, but my mind had not been open to yellow before.

Here's to the last few "yellow" days before the grey sets in for what will probably seem like for good.