Grey and Rainy Bliss

Today the clouds overhead feel like a down comforter making the city all fluffy and compressed.  We overslept and for once we accepted it as is rather than arguing over the whys.  G got up before I even knew we'd overslept and put the kettle on.  And I call him on his cell while he's in the kitchen asking him to bring the Bible, we've missed Mass.  No panic, just simple motions to fulfill what we consider requirements of the day.

And we'll go for coffee and read The Post and we'll discuss the future and all the uncertainties of life.  Grey days like this very seldom make me feel sad, instead them remind me of home, of the way the grey would change the green fields, of how you simply get used to it.  Grey is one of my favorite colors so why should I mind days such as these?  

And I turned as I was walking out of our bedroom and said, "I would move to London before Paris any day."  I didn't find it to be an odd statement but he says that it surprises him.  And it surprises me that it surprises him.  After all, I say, Paris is a lovely fantasy where you can pretend everything is always delightful.  But London, with her docks and her business and the hustle and bustle that has existed for centuries is more real, more me.  

I remember when I was 18 and we were on the train from Paris to London and my heart was breaking with each turn of the wheels, each tiny town with red tiled roofs we passed.  I thought it was unbearable.  And then I spent 2 days in London and knew I had found home.  I came home and forced myself to learn to like tea, a substance I cannot function without now but that I could not stand the taste of then.  I never could put a finger on the why, and I didn't really care.  But today I did.  

I would still prefer the English town to London.  To our favorite little town with the abbey and the cafes and the market.  Less smog (did you know that if you are out and about in London for even a day you will have grey snot for days?).  I long to wander down the twisty cobblestone road to my favorite little place for ice cream on my way to walking the abbey.  I long to hear the teenage boys yelling out the price of their strawberries, competing against one another.  

So grey and rainy days are a bliss I look forward to as for a moment I can lie back in bed and pretend that today we are headed to the market and a cafe au lait at our place.  And the world is right and good again.