Today is my favorite kind of day. It is cool and grey. There’s no determining where the sun may be in the blank-slate sky, and all the fall colors of the all plants are impossibly vivid  —  flaming tree, mottled vine, confident evergreen. I’m wrapped in cotton and wool, sipping mint tea and intermittently gazing out at the display.

It is quiet.

Some have asked about my fondness for cloudy Bay-area weather. Isn’t it depressing? Don’t I long for the sun? For me, this grey is comforting. It puts me in touch with my world and with myself. It’s like turning down the volume and feeling the bass. Ah, there it is, what’s been here all along — a constant hum, an ever-present drumming. It vibrates my whole being and in this, I remember that I am part of something.

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