It was raining lightly this morning when the sun came up amidst the drizzle.

I've always thought that when it rains and shines together, it's bittersweet - trying to smile even as you cry.

This morning, however, the rainy sunshine, the sunshiney rain, felt sullen, reluctant, seething with passive fury or frustration - trying to maintain a defiant or fierce glare in the face of abject melancholy.

I've always appreciated the rain, so this morning's rain (it's still raining now) made me wonder a little about my state of mind; after all, to borrow Anaïs Nin's observation on perception, we really don't see things as they are, do we? We see them as we are.

Maybe I am sullen and seething with fury or frustration - I just don't know it yet.

I don't think I want to, either.