Even in February

The day donned an unimaginative gray suit and trudged through the turnstile. It swayed in the shakity shake of the subway, as the graffiti clad cement walls whirled to a blur in the gathering motion of minutes. The overcast hours commuted from dull to dreary and back again.

It is February, after all, and Dreariness Awareness Month. The day had no choice, really, but to be a gray mess in a dead end job.

But there is a place where even gray is breath taking. So I took the long way to the grocery store, and snapped a picture of the scene that never fails to take me worlds away from the drudgery.

This morning, we awoke to a snow day. Time to shed the gray suit and squeeze into a snow suit. The wonder-creating white covers over the dreariness like it was never there at all. The trees were up all night catching snowflakes on their tongues, and now droop in snow-laden sleep deprivation while the sun-speckled seconds flutter through their branches.

It is in the contrast that I conclude, Life is good. Even in February.