A gray day and pelting rain knocked at my window this morning.
Clouds were tumbling down the mountain trailing tattered edges, snagging them on trees and rooftops.
The Med was gone, swallowed, erased like the rest of the world in a flat gray. An oppressive silence bore down on me. No bird songs, no breeze to ruffle leaves only random mournful drips on flagstone.
Winter Sun is gone. Will he ever come back and warm my skin?
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Tu es un peu triste, cherie? Tu a deja perdu ton parapluie?
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Je vais mieux maintenant que tu es la. Mon parapluie a des trous.
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What about Spring sun? It is coming sooner rather than later.
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For now, I pine for winter sun. Spring sun is still way off. 🙂
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I hear you.
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I hate a dreary day. What I hate even more than a dreary day is another one or two following one after another. 😦
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Yep. I am with you there.
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Thanks for making my dumb dreary days less dreary.
There is nothing you can do about the dumb part. 😦
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Hugs.:-)
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Loved the artistry of your words, Em, just not the picture you painted. I detest COLD, rain, gray days. Hope it got better for you later.
Paul
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Thank you for the compliment Paul. Gray days, when they follow each other without end are a hard. You know how much I love the winter sun here.
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Am sending you some sun and blue sky to bring a good cheer
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Thank you friend.
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Clouds were tumbling down the mountain trailing tattered edges, snagging them on trees and rooftops.
Wonderful. And yes, he will
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Thank you. I am not so sure about winter sun.
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I am sure
To brush the skin with a gentle hand
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That would be lovely.
Good night mon ami.
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Et tu
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A strong sense of scene, and a haunting question.
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Thank you Marylin. Thanks for stopping by.
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