The day is sort of distant this morning.  Withdrawn, beautiful and lonely.  She seems like her feelings are hurt.

Have I offended her?

Fog's silvery gray scarf wraps around the day, diffusing the sun into a distant white mist. I can't approach her.  When I try, she turns away, telling me with unspoken language that she wants to be left alone.

No one is stirring out there. 

Cars are infrequent.

Birds are still.

My cats...are sleeping.

The day seems to be waiting. Has something happened?  Is she expecting a visitor?

I've been working for several hours and accomplished much.  Only eight emails were received this morning at work.  Just one required my attention but immerse in my work and myself, I didn't notice the day's behavior until now.

The morning's meetings have been canceled.  

I have a cuppa joe at hand.  French roast, hot, black and unsweetened.  

One meeting is on the calendar for the rest of the day.

Nothing mars the calendar tomorrow.

Think I'll go for a walk.

Maybe the day will join me.