16
Very helpful Review
Gray, the 3rd.
And again: Gray.
Clouds, fog, rain.
Even the green of the trees seems overshadowed by gray.
The birds' chirping sounds dull.
The scent of the flowers smells pale, hazy.
The colors of the world run out, blur, dilute, leaving only a diffuse grayish something.
A glance out the window reveals sunshine and the most wonderful spring weather with vibrant colors, busy bees and birds, a whole concert of awakening nature.
What a paradox to the window inward.
There are such days.
Dreary, sad, profound.
With a heavy gray blanket. So heavy.
Sometimes it is possible to lift this blanket a little. Even if it's with a fragrance. Like Vera Wang's Embrace Periwinkle and Iris. It can lift a corner of the gray blanket with its initially unobtrusive lovely freshness of bergamot and mandarin. It brings a bit of lightness and lessens the burden a little.
And then it gently offers: Look, I also have a blanket here, not gray, but also not bright. Soft light blue, cuddly soft, yet light and delicate. With a lot of powderiness from the iris that envelops and protects against the gray eminence. The blue jasmine also lifts the other corner of the leaden gray blanket with surprising lightness.
And suddenly a swap has taken place, the gray blanket has been pushed aside, not completely, but enough that a light blue cloud floats around the shoulders, a cotton-soft armor against gray attacks. With a hint of vanilla sweetness, not too strong, not too sticky, and certainly not dominant, yet sufficient against the bitter taste that has remained from the concrete gray.
And while outside the cheerful spring inferno trills, a delicate lightness in light blue spreads inside, carrying through the day, always subtly in the background, but caring and long-lasting.
And the gray blanket rolls up sulkily.
Clouds, fog, rain.
Even the green of the trees seems overshadowed by gray.
The birds' chirping sounds dull.
The scent of the flowers smells pale, hazy.
The colors of the world run out, blur, dilute, leaving only a diffuse grayish something.
A glance out the window reveals sunshine and the most wonderful spring weather with vibrant colors, busy bees and birds, a whole concert of awakening nature.
What a paradox to the window inward.
There are such days.
Dreary, sad, profound.
With a heavy gray blanket. So heavy.
Sometimes it is possible to lift this blanket a little. Even if it's with a fragrance. Like Vera Wang's Embrace Periwinkle and Iris. It can lift a corner of the gray blanket with its initially unobtrusive lovely freshness of bergamot and mandarin. It brings a bit of lightness and lessens the burden a little.
And then it gently offers: Look, I also have a blanket here, not gray, but also not bright. Soft light blue, cuddly soft, yet light and delicate. With a lot of powderiness from the iris that envelops and protects against the gray eminence. The blue jasmine also lifts the other corner of the leaden gray blanket with surprising lightness.
And suddenly a swap has taken place, the gray blanket has been pushed aside, not completely, but enough that a light blue cloud floats around the shoulders, a cotton-soft armor against gray attacks. With a hint of vanilla sweetness, not too strong, not too sticky, and certainly not dominant, yet sufficient against the bitter taste that has remained from the concrete gray.
And while outside the cheerful spring inferno trills, a delicate lightness in light blue spreads inside, carrying through the day, always subtly in the background, but caring and long-lasting.
And the gray blanket rolls up sulkily.
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3 Comments
I don't know what the evergreen with its blue flowers smells like, but it seems to blend well with the iris.