It's within the gray that we come alive. The black suffocates. You can get lost in the blizzard of white, not to mention the suffering that comes with frostbite. But gray. Gray cradles. Gray encourages. Gray came with no instructions, only a gentle push. Stop and rest here. Nothing will be clear -- it's all rain clouds. But it's the tension that counts. At least you are not drowning in puddles.
And the sun checks up on you occasionally. It makes sure you still try. It makes sure to keep you dry and supplied with some vitamin D. Stay free, it whispers. You aren't tethered to my beams, it whispers. And just like that a wisp of a cloud silences the sun. But you understand. You heard. You move on.
There are still pockets of water. There are still traps under fallen leaves, leaving you to guess where to step next. Step anyway. Stay steady on the legs you've created for yourself. Camp under the stars if you have to, but awake in time for the sunrise. It has secrets to tell and it needs your eyes to listen. Listen. Let the gray grow over your toes while you stretch your muscles awake.