Whether gray is my favorite color because I live in the Pacific Northwest, or I live in the Pacific Northwest because gray is my favorite color is up for grabs. Suffice it to say that gray began this week, and I feel good.
It's not really raining. Just overcast, with some pale sunshine in between little showers. It's not cold yet, just cool. The world seems filled with crows. There's a wild, sort of north-south-east-west wind blowing around. When you open the doors and windows, it cleans the whole house. When you go out in it, it gets in your hair, and your ears, and your mouth, and cleans you, too.
I think I like the fall weather here for the same reason I like black and white photographs: in a world stripped of color, you can see structures more clearly. Against the backdrop of all the shades of gray that this place is capable of, what is
vivid becomes more important--someone smiling at you, the bright vine maple leaves on the sidewalk outside Jeff's house, the raucous sound of crows, the smell of coffee, the heavy feel of a big green apple in your hand.
Some gray things I like:
Sidewalk, silverware, weathered cedar shingles, driftwood, whales, my hair, my bedlinens, sand, storms, the ocean, foam on the ocean, clouds, my hair, that one jacket Dean Winchester wears, brushed nickel bathroom fixtures, the moon
, my surround sound speakers, Icelandic lopi wool, galvanized buckets, my first car, streets, dolphins, puddles, ice cubes, the charcoal sketch of the goddess Diana that my brother did for me years ago, my brushed steel water bottle, the huge English walnut tree in my yard, Monsoon (in memory), my laptop, my current LJ theme, quarters, knives, my phone, twilight...