Thoughts on a gray day …

Day 273

The ceiling is low.

No, I don’t mean my actual ceiling … but the sky, the cloud ceiling. It’s very low today.

The sounds outside on this gray day are amplified and muffled at the same time. The meows of the cats sound louder yet I can not hear the traffic from the busy street a few blocks away. It’s still and quiet and makes me sleepy.

Overhead there is a thick layer of gray clouds … dirty cotton candy blanketing the area. I can’t see individual clouds – it’s just more of a covering of batting. The coverage blocks out any sun rays and the light seems more like pre-dawn than late-morning.

The planes are flying in a pattern over the house today, as well … meaning the crystal in the dining cabinet is rattling. I never like that. If my glassware clinks from overhead vibrations then, in my estimation, the planes are too close. Meaning low flying. I’m glad I can’t see them. The other day it was clear and lovely and I could see the windows lit up as the planes were landing. I’m waiting for someone to drop me a bag of pretzels one of these days. But that would be a miracle … they no longer serve snacks!

One of these low-flying planes, later today, will be carrying extra precious cargo … Ted. He’ll be in for a few days. I am a stay-at-home mom with no kids at home. Something is wrong with this picture! It’s called life and growing up and away!

In any case, I’m not one who likes being away from her kids – I’ve said that before (and I’m sure I’ll say it again) … so, I am really looking forward to the time I’ll get to share with him this weekend. Short and sweet but great.

The other night when I was looking at the few trick or treaters that came by I wondered where the last twenty years went. There was a toddler in a Tigger costume and he could have been Ted in his dinosaur outfit so many moons ago. In a blink of an eye … they are grown.

Those years fly by in the time it takes to make a transcontinental flight. Fast and sometimes white knuckled. I’m not an avid flyer … low ceilings, high ceilings … it doesn’t matter. I don’t understand the logistics of keeping something that big up in the air … it just makes no sense to me. Hence, I’m a nervous flyer.

When I helped Ted move out east for school that first time my return flight was re-routed due to a huge rainstorm. We flew from Boston southward and ended up, eventually, sitting on the tarmac for 5 hours in Atlanta. But as we approached and side-stepped that system we went through the most gorgeous skies I’ve ever seen. I imagine if one can see Heaven – that was pretty much it.

Our plane was but a speck enveloped by these enormous white clouds … edges tinged with gold and pink. They were puff upon puff of cotton balls and for some reason it reminded me of a scene in the 1960’s movie Fantastic Voyage. Purple lightning snaked its way between the clouds and bright golden flashes of light were not uncommon. It was our own private fireworks display compliments of Mother Nature. It was breathtaking. I remember no one was talking on that flight. It seemed everyone was calm and silent as we glided through those puffball clouds watching that light show.

When there are gray days, like today, that flight comes to mind. Somewhere overhead I hope others are getting a glimpse of heaven before their landing. I hate to think that my crystal is rattling for nothing!

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