They looked out on sky and they grey that held in cover, mist of fog suspension that filtered light in fall from the heavy sky; and indoors, they rested contemplative in their minds.
In the window, too, they witnessed on boughs or maple tree the beginning of buds, violet-red, that were the first branched sign of spring.
“It’s a mess of a day,” James spoke.
Annie’s eyes and thoughts kept to the colored and beginning buds, tired and wishing to give no more thought to winter’s grey.
“Yes,” Annie spoke, still focused on spring-sign. “It’s just a state of change; and soon it will be spring.”