It's a startlingly lovely morning, not the pure and sunny sort, but complexly moody — muted and gray. It must have rained during the night, as evidenced by the wet-but-drying surfaces. (I have a dream-like recollection of the first drops starting to fall.) The sky is overcast and the wind is up; breezy enough to choose a light jacket, despite the moderate temperature. From time to time, it gusts, and the plants swirl. The clouds are low and fast, with occasional breaks. And the scent of jasmine dominates, wafted over in great waves.
As I write, the breaks in the clouds become more frequent, and the world lightens. The moody morning will turn into a stunning day. But right now, this moment, I like it just as it is.