It's a green day at the greenwood. The leaves on the trees are bright, tender, green in the low light of an otherwise gray day. It fills the house with green. Dark; eerie; like fog. It's peaceful, quiet and calm.
Later, a fire on the hearth will add a golden glow with red and black: the 'smells and bells' of our sabbath in crackling incense.
Outside, rain threatens, now only a mist. A front is coming through.