The gray-sludge blues...

At the beginning of each year, as soon as my Christmas decorations are packed away, I begin searching for signs of spring.  I'm well aware that we're just a couple of weeks into winter.  But when the Rogue Valley is hit with inversions that bring horrible air quality, and the gray-sludge that stays around for days on end, I'm ready to crawl into my memory foam mattress and hibernate until a hint of blue sky is seen on the horizon.

I'm glad I live where we have four seasons--but I see no reason they all last three months.  This is my ideal:  Spring, 5 months; Summer, 1 1/2 months; Fall, 5 months; Winter, 2 weeks.  Makes sense to me.  Unfortunately, the Maker-of-Seasons never consulted me when she put the weather patterns into the realm of world phenomenon.  Consequently, I look out my windows and see gray sludge much of December and January.

Perhaps if I were a true artist and looked at my surroundings as more of a poetic setting, I could write alluring words to describe the view with romance and beauty.  But I just can't give eloquence and style to cloudy, damp, hazy, gray sludge--nope, can't take it to that level...

Yet hope isn't completely lost.  This morning I actually saw tiny green shoots peeking through the tired, cold ground.  A good omen?  I see promise.

So just maybe--the sun'll come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun...