Witching Hours

I love a rainy monday morning. something about it just feels calm. the mood of monday is comparable to a slight drizzle and dark, looming clouds. I think I also love it because I know I’m not missing out on any beautiful weather while I’m locked in the confinements of my 9-5.

I love rain in general. people that can’t fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting the roof make no sense to me. rain makes me nostalgic.

for those summer nights in my backyard with my sisters, listening to cicadas and doing backflips off of the diving rock (the rock was more aesthetically pleasing).

for the afternoon sprinkle, where my sweet boy yogi would sit outside and listen to the wind and sniff at the air. scared of flies, loved a thunderstorm. go figure.

I felt nostalgic today. my usual commute consists of a mandatory walk by gramercy park. I always try to envision a day where I live right in that square. a family of five, two dogs, and an unlimited corepower membership for me and me only.

wishful thinking for sure.

it’s special for a lot of reasons, but I think it’s most special because it’s beautiful in all seasons, in all weather. winter, rain, sunshine, summer, snow, fall, sleet, spring, clouds. beautiful.

and I could take the shorter way to work. get right on the L and be there about ten minutes earlier. maybe avoid the rain and wind for a little longer. but if I did that I wouldn’t have seen the cherry blossoms that started to bloom just outside of the park. barely peeking through, but enough for me to exhale and smile.

so yes. this was definitely a gloomy monday morning. maybe one of the gloomiest. but there are hints all around of brighter days ahead. and I think in the hustle and bustle of the city, seeing a small tree growing tiny pink flowers is exactly that.

take the long way. it’s a reminder that beauty often lies in the pauses we take along the journey.