I was walking my eskie Meeko on the beach today and I was mesmerised by the different shades of grey that made up the city. Only the continuous rain could have brought my attention to the infinity of greyness in Vancouver. What is it about the rain that makes one miss the sun and the sun making one miss the rain? Where is the contentment? The colours of the rain make a beautiful painting, very sophisticated fashion statement, a romantic day with baked goods and hot chocolate but to live it for a long time makes a miserable life. Is it because it's wet or is it because it's grey? Or is it the loss of appreciation?
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