Clouds, and even rain, spread over the city in a quiet motion last weekend. I was at home writing and up against a couple big deadlines. I couldn’t help but ease into the feeling of melancholy the weather brought on. We need the rain, so it was a relief, but it was also a shift in my atmosphere.
It was dark and I found myself a little sad. The subtle kind of sad that isn’t detrimental, but just is. A weird mixture of enjoying the dark and the moodiness, feeling a tinge of anxiety, wanting to go somewhere but knowing I should stay home and write, missing my mom. Missing my mom a lot. I was craving comfort.
I decided to utilize my somber state to inspire me for dinner. If comfort comes in food form, it’s turkey; specifically cooked slowly with traditional fresh herbs in a hunter’s stew.