A miserable day, grey and smeared with rain. Even the garden is still, the birds huddled under cover, the cats indoors asleep, not a drop of wind. A blank day.
I myself am still full of cold. Overflowing with it. My head stuffed painfully full and my nose dripping with infuriating regularity.
A perfect day then to sit with a good book, a steaming pot of tea and piles of warm buttered toast. Immersed in ideas and imaginations. Lulled by the soft platter of rain.