There is something about overcast days. I don’t mean cloudy or partly-sunny days, days where the clouds actually have shape and forms and occasionally there is some blue or whitish blue, depending on how hot it is, sky with sun sparkling around the edges. I mean those days when the whole sky is covered in varying shades of off-whites and greys and there is daylight but the sun is completely behind the clouds. The whole day.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, people are out, lawns get mowed, shrubs trimmed, birds are busy at feeders or fending their nests from other bird enemies, dogs are walked, cars rushing to and fro. But the day itself. It’s like it’s waiting for something. What, the sun to shine without cloud obstruction? Afternoon, then evening, then night, then tomorrow? Then what? But really, it’s like it’s on the very edge of something– the verge of…  ?

I like cloudy days. It’s kind of like being snug under the covers on a cold wintry night. Or sweatered and muffled and booted with mittens and a hat outside on a frigid morning. But it’s also like the sun is taking a breather. Like even the sun, working hard to shine on the grasses and trees and flowers, feeding them with their photosynthesis, finally gets a day off. But it doesn’t really. It might not be making an appearance here but it’s shining somewhere. It illuminates our entire solar system. Other parts of the galaxy can see our sun. The opposite side of the universe has some awareness of it, as soon as the light years enable its rays’ brightness to reach there.

Sometimes I let my brain take a day off. As though it’s illuminated my little world enough for a while and needs to replenish itself. Even when I think I have successfully turned it off it is still running. Still doing something even if it is unconscious. So eventually we can look back out and see the brightness from the sun again, our minds begin working, thinking, figuring, planning, hoping.

Some things, even at rest, never really stop.


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