Photo: Michael Bryan, Flickr Creative Commons
I'm in one of those moods where I really want to write something, but there's just nothing there to send out through my fingers to be converted from a mess of chemicals and electrical impulses to mechanical energy and back to a bunch of electrical energy for you to later convert into something that makes sense to your little wrinkled mass of lipids and proteins. Today's one of those days when I have a targetless yearning. I watched too many videos on Mickey's Vimeo page and I'm wanting to move again. Somewhere mountains are close enough to see and close enough to walk into without making a plan of it. My wife is sleeping off a rough night and early morning with a sick kid and the kid is doing the same. I'm alone trying to keep myself occupied. It's raining outside and after a couple of cups of coffee and a stream of music chosen for the feel, I've hit that emotion of beautiful melancholy. It's not sad. I actually enjoy the mood. It's just that calling it happy or content doesn't quite fit the bill. It's an overcast rainy day when you didn't have anything to do anyway and didn't really want to go out. The rain traps you inside, but the gray skies let the greens on the ground glow. It's beautiful and sometimes you just want days like this.