Grey is another color, like brown, that can be beautiful and dark, lovely and decrepit all at the same time. The skin of elephants and hippos and rhinos and whales is grey and, on them, perfectly toned.

Sometimes, in the endless cloudless skies of the New Mexican desert, a grey and rainy sky would be beautiful but, to those who live in the neverending greyness of Seattle, perhaps a peek at blue clarity would be equally desirable. Some things turn grey when they have gone bad.

Grey is the color of ashes from spent logs in the fire. I can never be sure if grey with an "e" in the middle or gray with an "a" in the middle is the proper spelling and this makes my linguistic skills appear quite gray. There are greyscales and grayscales of ways to write and ways to compare things along spectrums.

Grey is a color that is sagacious and wise in the hair of men and women alike though it can denote age more than wisdom and seldom does age necessitate intelligence or good advice though it can.

Gray skies stick out more than anything when I think of gray. Sometimes it reminds me of the color of lighthouses and houses from Cape Cod where my family once vacationed regularly before we all moved to Florida where blue skies turned grey each summer afternoon.

The thunder and lightning would crash and then, abruptly, the grey would turn light blue or pink as the last rays of sun shined down each evening. Funerals, if not black, are gray. Gray is the color of depression and boredom and no one can argue that grey is the color of energy or being alive.

One who is greying may be doing so from age or stress or both. Since having triplets, many a hair on my face and scalp, what is left thereof, has gone gray or grey or white or some shade between.

Does it make me look older? Certainly. Does it make me wiser? Not in the least, though looking so is no problem for me.

This page is still under construction and being developed.