Musings

It's funny how the weather can become an embodiment of your mood. Or perhaps it's the other way around...

Today is what I think of as a London day: grey, overcast, and misty, but not in a depressing sort of way. Today is the sort of day that demands strong, hot Earl Grey Tea and woodsmoke-scented air. I myself have neither of these warming comforts at the moment, but the day itself seems to be shrouded in them. Today just feels foggy, and this invisible fog has pressed me into the realm of rainy-day daydreams and musings...

My imagination's current residence:

A weathered cast-iron spiral staircase winds its way up to a warm, simple but plush room. Beautifully inset skylights allow the sun's muted rays to enter the quarters. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each filled with myriad novellas, dictionaries, and ledgers occupy three of the room's four walls. A blazing fireplace and carved white mantelpiece claim the fourth wall. These simply must revolve to reveal a second "hidden" room.

This second room holds another great wonder: a glossy black baby grand piano. An open sonata graces the piano bench, and pieces of sheet music, though scattered, seem to be arranged in orderly fashion. The wall opposite the fireplace houses two impressive picture windows, allowing a view of untouched fields and stunning, cloud-encapsulated mountain peaks. More bookshelves both behind and across the ebony and ivory holds a treasure trove of music: Hanon, Bach, and Haydn; Tchaikovsky, Vivaldi, and Mozart; and oh, on a day like today, what else but the meandering, other-worldly themes of Debussy, Chopin, and Ives?

My present reality:

I would love to spend my afternoon sorting weathered books, deeply inhaling their musty, wonderful scent; I would love to scratch newly-thought words and music onto yellowing parchment; I would love to tuck myself away in a room of music and literature and worship and warmth -- not just physically, but mentally.

Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor this imagined space to do so today. Perhaps this isn't so very unfortunate, though...

How else would I admire the azure lupine and ruby tulips which so adamantly flaunt their brilliant colors against the haze in the outdoor gardens? How else could I see the beauty of gray tree branches interweaving themselves with the sky? How else could I revel in the beauty that such an unassuming day provides?

I suppose that there are multiple ways to appreciate a rainy day. All I know is that at the moment, I am more than content to sip my freshly brewed cup of Earl Grey and watch the ashy, rose-colored twilight melt away into another evening...