By 
It’s the interstice, the time between seasons. It’s not really winter, not yet spring.
Nature hasn’t yet found her box of Crayolas, so we’re living on neutral turf, in the decolorized zone.
The colors may be bland, but the air has been warmish. In the 50s often, some days near 70.
The grand picture shows no green, but if we paw around in the grass, there’s a bit of emerald here and there. Longer, warmer days will resuscitate the grass. Moisture would help, something along the lines of a long, healing rain.
Thank you so much for the suggestion of the mantra. It has already helped and I’ll use it often.
The colors may be bland but your words are poetry. Lovely. Makes me want to read more…