It was bleak here yesterday. Very bleak. No blue showing in the sky at all. Just thick, opaque grey clouds that were too heavy to float. They were 
just hanging there, like a painter’s drop cloth, dangling from a ceiling. Lumpy. Still. Oppressive. Dark. Dingy. Gloomy.
Somber.
Leafless, lifeless trees. A cold wind, blowing. From my fifteenth floor apartment, I could hear it howling like the soundtrack to a Halloween horror film. And it was cold, too. That damp, raw cold that makes you shiver. The cold you feel under your skin.
Winter cold.
This truly is, hands down, my least favourite time of the year. No redeeming qualities. It just looks, and feels, like death.
Which in some ways, it is. It makes me want to crawl into a cave, from which I emerge in the mid to late Spring. When the tulips and daffodils are just starting to peek their heads out of the still hard, cold earth. November totally saps my energy. And yesterday, it put me into a reflective state of mind.
Introspective.
And it was the absolutely perfect day for it. My exploration into my heart, my soul and my psyche revealed a lot that I already knew. That, like a moth to a flame, I Continue reading
365 And Counting 