way behind on my writing

[baronessekat]

February

The lake was a cold, institutional gray when I drove past it yesterday. That shade of gray that makes you think of jail cells and high school locker rooms and little alien men with big bug eyes.

As I sat and waited for the traffic light to change I looked deeper at the water. I remarked to myself that it was interesting that as the water reached the horizon, the color got lighter and lighter until it was the same colorless hue as the sky, so that it was hard to tell were water ended and atmosphere began.

Further in my travels I noticed that the the ground was no longer that beautiful pristine white of freshly fallen snow. Instead it had that dull and dingy look to it. In fact it was the same color as the sky. Once again making it hard to tell where exactly the horizon was.

I merged onto the expressway right behind a salting truck and once again took note of the colors. The salt on the pavement made the asphalt change from black to an ashy gray. I realized that it was the same color as the snow and the water and the sky.

That’s when I came to the conclusion about what it is about February in Western New York that is so depressive. It’s not the cold. It’s not the short days.

It’s the fact that color is totally absent from the world.

topic: absent