A dawdle or gun-it Monday

It is one of those special Pacific Northwest Monday mornings, of a kind that seems uniquely indigenous. Mildly warm (46° F, 8° C) for winter, but wet and gusty, with heavy rain blowing from various directions minute to minute. Workweek Mondays require a certain resolve when the early morning alarm starts to chirrup, and hearing this kind of weather lashing the inky-black specularity of the bedroom window doesn't help.  It drives me down deeper under the comforter, at least momentarily.

This kind of winter morning stormy also has a particularly Pacific Northwest shade of darkness.  A dull green-toned black like the center of an indifferent soft black licorice chew.  Light simply absorbes into it's flatness, streetlights cast thin beams that seem to fade before they make it to street level, and pedestrians are rendered nearly invisible unless they have the forethought to wear something illuminated or reflective.  It is a tricky darkness, in that you can see into the distance but you can't make out details through the swirling condensation.

On Mondays like this folks seem to be either in a big hurry (running late?) or moving with no urgency whatsoever. Traffic, such as there was this morning, was all dawdle or gun-it. Posted speed limits were just the fulcrum from which the speedometer needle swings, with most cars moving at speeds to the right or left of dead center.

Like the streetlight this morning, like the gun-it or dawdle place of traffic, today's playlist started strong and energetic then faded, in this case, into gentle piano of Jean-Yves Thibaudet followed by the classical pace of Bach (albeit allegro-tempo classical):

 - Gaelic Storm: If Good Times Were Dollars

 - John Mayer: Daughters (Live)

 - Jean-Yves Thibaudet: Hullo, Bolinas

 - Johann Sebastian Bach: Concerto No.4 In G Major BWV 1049: Allegro