Today, the weather was gray. I woke up to a steady rain, one that
had played its tattoo all night against my windows.
The rain turned into a snow shower, which made the rough
skin on this tree seem more appropriate, as it turned
its resources inward to survive the coming winter.
I suppose we all need to develop a rough skin as we get older,
we need it to preserve our ideals and our dignity.
We need it to survive the small cruelties we see every day,
committed by those who would believe the
world they live in is black and white, without variations
and nuances in rhythm and color,
Thank god we all do not march to the same drummer.
Or the world would be flat gray every day.