Here, it is yellow, it is blue and it is red. The grass, the sea and the cliffs. The primary colours / my primary needs. That is, when the weather is nice. When it is grey out, everything fades away, and I love that too. Before ever thinking about visiting Madeleine, I pictured what she would be like. Oddly, I didn't meet her during my first summer. I had to wait until the following year, in Pointe-aux-Loups. There she was—hair blowing in the wind under the chilly rain. I had dreams of foggy dunes, soft waves and rainy skies. And Pointe-aux-Loups was all about that.

Most people would say the weather is bad, but I believe grey weather just adds to the beauty of the Îles de la Madeleine. It gives me the urge to go outside and discover what is hidden on the other side of the fog. On most days, we could quote Cyrano de Bergerac: “Tis a rock! ... a peak! ... a cape!—A cape, forsooth! Tis a peninsular!” ... well, almost. When the mist sets in, it feels like our heads are in the clouds—literally.

Grey weather also means putting on rubber boots and somehow hoping to stumble upon knee-high mud puddles. It means being swallowed by the land and having to sit still for a little while. Looking around, always, and enjoying what nature has to offer: sea salt, beach sand, rainy skies and mud baths. As all beaches are empty, it is time to be selfish. The infinity for oneself / for you and me. The everlasting silence breaks into the thousand drops falling on my cheeks. It is cold, and I like it. What truly matters is the weather in our heads, where the sun should be shining bright.

When we come back inside, it dawns on us: we brought the ocean back in our boots. We inhaled bits of the storm, and exhaled bits of our own on the coast—an empty shell filled with wind. Ultimately, it also means bursting into laughter.

In the Îles de la Madeleine, I believe grey skies are even prettier than blue skies. But that might just be because they remind me of her eyes...