Grey
I love grey days. The clouds are piled high. Impossible mounds of white silhouetting the crows soaring toward them, unable to escape far enough from their carrion call to touch the pale wonders moving sluggishly against the pale background of blue. The insects hover outside the window, smudges of black against the muted greens of the landscape. In the woods across the way, a blue jay hops from branch to branch on a fallen tree, a blue smudge visible in his contrast, his color as raucous as his call.
There is something peaceful in the shade, a muting of the brazen colors of the Florida landscape. For a moment, things are softened, made a little gentler, and I look out the window and smile, watching the world move in greys, greens, and blues.