The gray is unstoppable. It invades everything, coloring our moods a milky foggy white. It is worse than the biting cold, more dangerous than the whipping wind, harder to deal with than the pelting snow. When it arrives, it takes hold and refuses to let go for weeks and months at at time. The gray is stubborn you see, shunning sunlight and flowers, a balmy breeze and sun-drenched walks on city streets. It's goal...to never let in the light.
But Chicagoans adapt and with time, they outsmart the gray. They outsmart it by leaving. And it is about time that I join them.
On Thursday morning, I'm boarding a plane and heading for sunshine. I'm going to hear crashing waves and feel mist as it flies off the sides of the boat. I'm going to stand and sit and lie in the sun for as long as I possibly can. And Internet, I'm going to remember what the days are like when they are not gray.
And best of all? We're going to hang with these two. Beach side, yet again. Forward ho!
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