December 22, 2021

Outside the Window

I opened my eyes this morning, as usual, in a dark room. Only one small window that I can see very little out of. I leave my room to go to the kitchen for breakfast and realize the lights are on in the kitchen. Not a sunny day. I know by now that sunny days mean that the lights don’t need to be on in the kitchen. The sun can easily light up the room through the windows behind the sink. I look outside and I see gray. Gray is a color I don’t like to associate myself with. I don’t want to feel gray. Gray to me is numb, colorless, and holds unhappiness. I turn my attention to breakfast instead. I look in the fridge for almost no reason knowing that I’ll end up eating the same thing: Cheerios with dried cranberries and a little bit of milk. I take the bowl with me back to my room since there is no one to eat with at the moment. I couldn’t bear sitting in the kitchen alone, eating in silence, and staring out the window at gray. Not today at least. I finish my cereal in the safety of my own room and decide to look out the little window that I have. I still see gray but more beyond it this time. Snow frozen to the trees and outside furniture gives the gray of the sky more depth. The trees, a deep green, stand out as the one color aspect to the view I’m able to see. All clustered together, it’s hard to tell where one starts and the next ends. As I gaze further out the window, I notice precipitation coming down. Is it snow? Rain? Ice? Are my eyes deceiving me or is this wishful thinking? I snap back to reality remembering the news stating last night that there would be ice. Silly me. I look up one last time out the window before going on with my day. It’s gray outside the window but it’s not my gray. It’s not dark and depressing, nor does it represent isolation. The gray I see is the weather and will not inflict my gray today.