Grey Days

I’m on a quest for colour lately. The nightly news tallies up the days of rain we’ve had and people post shots of the sun in the rare moments it pokes through the grey.

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On rising the other day, we could see the promise of clear skies out towards the Rutherford, so we packed up the dog and rowed (well, it felt like rowing) through the fog seeking reprieve. And there it was: sun shining lemon yellow on the crisp white trees against the bluest of skies. Once we even got to stand in its warmth for a second or two before it sank behind the mountains by noon!

Sunday, we drove across the Green (marvelling at its emerald pools) and launched into another hike, even though it was drizzling rain. What choice is there these days? Our reward was twofold though lacking in colour: the dog caught the scent of something very interesting and it warmed our hearts to see him roam the countryside like a pup in search of whatever it was; a flock of pine siskins flew overhead and the whoosh of their little wings was almost palpable.

Today on our walk, we were happy to don footwear other than gumboots but still hungry for colour. No great swathes of pink or purple graced the horizon but as I gazed at the moss beside the trail to Nairn, there lay a stick with an amazing array of turquoise-yes turquoise- lichen (or is it fungi?) I have never seen such a shade in anything other than a lake.

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It seems the grey days will continue for awhile; I wonder what the next colour revelation will be?

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