Welcome to the land of drabness. Rain falls, gently or in torrents, but continuously. The sky reflects the color of concrete, and it sucks all the green from the trees. At midday, the sky is no lighter than at dusk. Cars flow by with their lights on.
People walk with their heads down.
Umbrellas blow inside out. Our small house is steamy, and packed with bored children. The rug has a damp and muddy track from the door to the closet. The window glass trickles with condensation. Coats and hats and shoes develop a permanent dampness that is either warm or cold, but never gone.