Rainy Day

Gazing out of a large third floor window on a quiet day in the office makes me feel contemplative.  It's a gray, rainy day, but there's still something magnificent about this ordinary view of grass and trees and parking lots.  I think it's the height that makes the view seem so special.  I can see across the tops of trees several blocks away as well as the landscaped grounds just outside the building.  There's a big grassy area to one side, kept green in February by the mild-ish North Florida winter, as well as the diligent work of groundskeepers.  Three days of rain have left it soggy, and I can see by a pair of brown tracks showing that some vehicle must have driven over it recently and is probably lucky not to have gotten stuck.  When everything is so gray outside, the green of the grass stands out even more.  I don't understand why the cloudy sky makes everything but the grass look dingy, but it makes for a sort of surreal picture.  Gray sky, gray trees, gray sidewalk, muted colors, dim light, and BRIGHT GREEN GRASS.

When spring and summer come, the grounds staff will plant flowers, the crape myrtles will bloom, and the green, green grass will match its surroundings again.  A tropical storm or hurricane might brush by us on its way to some more attractive destination.  Or at another time the sky will turn gray and thunder will rumble and lightning will flash...for 20 minutes.  And then it will be bright again, hot and muggy, with steam rising off of the pavement.  A breeze will blow and tiny bits of the blooms on the white crape myrtle outside my window will take flight and look like snow.

And I'll be watching it all from my third-floor perch.