The November fog has descended with menace and tears over Neuchâtel. Most of the trees have lost their colorful trappings, and it is cold enough to make pleasure walks a distant memory. I had a friend who once told me that November in the northern hemisphere was good book weather. Now is the time to find cozy activities inside: reading, music, cooking, blogging.
Today I am grateful for colors. It’s the season where the sky is grey and everyone’s coat is black. It’s as if the color has been leeched out of this city when we need it most. But there are flashes of defiance, like the bright fruit and vegetables in my fridge, or the world map on my wall. I have a blanket my friend K crocheted for me. It is a beautiful symphony of every color you could imagine. When my eyes are starved for color, I can wrap myself in it and relax.
I am comforted by these bursts of colors, because there is something deliberate about finding colors against the grey, like choosing love over fear, or shaking off sadness to discover joy.