loving a gloomy day

I love a gloomy day every once in a while. It keeps the glorious sunny days fresh — I can’t appreciate the beauty of a sunny day if I don’t have its contrast.

But to be fair — I could say the same about the sunny days — they help me appreciate the beauty of an overcast or rainy day. I love a good storm. I love the monochromatic colorless day that, in its rarity, sparkles in a natural black and white filter.

I love to put on a ridiculous outfit of fuzzy socks, sweatpants, and flannel shirt, the more mismatched the better, and run a pot of coffee or brew a pot of tea, and sit somewhere near the gray light and read. Or pray. Or write. Or all of it, to the soothing soundtrack of a soft rain.