The moist air enveloped me as soon as I stepped out of the small commuter plane and onto the tarmac at the airport set next to the Columbia River (Portland, Oregon). The sky teased me showing blue and sun. For the three days since it has been the pensive gray so germane to this part of our country. Today I went to visit a friend. I heard a dog bark next door and my heart leaped. Shadow, the puppy I picked out seven years ago (when I lived in Virginia) was adopted by a new family when we moved. I must admit as much as I love him Shadow was not a good fit for our family nor my very allergic son-in-law who we see all the time now that we live in the same town. Still, it was hard to hear that familiar bark and because the family was not home, I could not even see him. Thoughts of his goofy smile and too big feet and wicked strong tail that could bruise you when he wagged it in excitement brought a few tears to my eyes. I then headed out of town to our former home, set on two lovely lush acres in the country. I delivered some items that should have stayed with the house when we moved. My primroses, the ones I planted the day we moved in on that sunny April day were blooming along the walk. The bleeding hearts my mom got me for my birthday one year were pushing up new shoots. I cried (and the tears are still flowing as I write this) as I drove down the long driveway lined with the just emerging daffodils the kids and I planted one fall. Back home in Utah I have primroses sitting on my kitchen window sill to be planted when it warms a bit. In the corner of my bedroom sit cans of paint – pensive sky – a soothing blueish gray.