I could talk about the beginning of Jack London’s tale “To Build a Fire” because I know “cold and gray”. I’ve lived it, I felt the cold biting my nose, I’ve got lost in the gray sky merging with the gray earth. The winters in Romania were cold and gray. Bucharest was a gray city and the snow would transform it for one night in something magical, in a white cold silence. But that would not last for long. As soon as people would find the courage to get out from the houses, everything would go back to gray again. Cold and gray.