It's a gray day.
I have it off, and I had so many things planned. An early morning foray into a strange section of the woods, renewing my driver's license, a trip to the library and a stop at an antique store. Grocery shopping, laundry, making a pie. Phone calls, paperwork, bills. But ... it's just so gray.
And I am so tired. Asthma all night long. I thought it was almost over, but it was only taking a breather. So to speak.
So I didn't get very far today, just to the front porch to sit in my old green chair for a while.
It is silent here now. No more crickets, no more frogs, no birdsong. The leaves still whisper though, those that still cling to the trees: Sshhhhhhh.
I wonder how much trouble I'll be in if I get caught with an outdated address on my license.
Rain is falling fitfully, in stops and starts, as if distracted and forgetful of its mission: Sshhhhhhh.
I begin to consider doing laundry. Surely I can manage that, at least.
From the south woods, a murmuration of starlings rises, easily a thousand strong, flying low in a rush of wings: Sshhhhhhh.
I smile. It's a gray day. A nothing day. And that's all there is to it: Sshhhhhhh.
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