Gray clouds settle over the landscape blocking out the sun and bringing a dark dampness to everything. It turns the world around her from the vibrant technicolor of spring to an old black and white movie with varied shades of black and gray and the crackling static sounds of an old recording.
Like a old thick quilt the gray covers her. Familiar, warm, and heavy it blankets her soul and muffles the outside noises. It weighs her down and causes her to draw in, curl under it’s weight and warmth. She’s thankful for the gray out the window, allowing her this time to curl under her own cloud and just retreat for awhile. She knows once the sun comes out and spring returns she will be forced to emerge. Forced to deal with the damage from the gray that can only be seen in the sun.
For now she embraces it. Pulls the blanket around her for comfort and retreats, falling into a soft slumber, comforted by the familiar feeling of the soft gray blanket.