Or grey, as our Brit brethren and sisthren spell it.
This evening was steel-newsprint gray with mist and impending flurries.
Walking the dog, I felt winter crowding in. I wore my heavy winter coat and wore gloves.
The unseen geese above sounded like barking puppies.
On last night's walk, the wolves or coyotes at the nearby zoo were wailing like sirens, like their neighbor hyenas. But I don't think it was hyenas.