The Light. Or Lack Thereof.
The light seeping in my windows is thin, watery. Coastal air clings to my skin like a nervous child. Even with a shawl its clamminess does not leave. The garden is sopping, at least I do not have to water. When it is grey and the cloud ceiling so close above my head it causes me to question everything. When it is sunny my mind is open and free as the sailing clouds, moving. When the word is grey and still, so I am I. the weather dictates so much. I am a Coastal girl, but p