A bird chirps outside my window. “Acheera, acheera, acheera, acheer.” (Or at least that’s how I think it sounds). If I look up, I can’t see him, but I do see lovely, misty things draping the sky: clouds.
Clouds are my favorite! Here’s why.
- They make it look like sunset. Sound weird? Well, as I biked today, I noticed how at the edges of the cloud covered sky, you could see blue and yellow peeking from the horizon. Blue and yellow (or should I say blue and gold) are classic colors for winter sunsets. Many times I’ve watched the sun fade into a pale blue and gold sunset in November.
- You can appreciate the trees. Winter shows us the bare anatomy of trees: the curve of their bodies, the way their branches splinter into segments, tinier and tinier; they narrow from sturdy branches to finger-like twigs. And the best way to see it is against a canvas of cool grey clouds. (Using the English word because “gray” just doesn’t sound beautiful enough…). Sunny skies are brilliant…so brilliant they drown out those details.
- When you watch them move across the sky, it feels surreal. Whether it’s a few puffs in a blue sky or a large swath of watercolour-grey cloud, watching them move across the sky makes you question reality. Okay, not that dramatic. But it certainly gives you a lightheaded feeling. They move so quietly, so smoothly, like a straight angle cutting through water. They float, glide, whisper across the sky. I think it’s amazing because whenever we think of movement, it’s confined to a limit on earth: the sound of a footfall, or a tree thudding to the ground, or the rustle of leaves as a squirrel scampers. But there is nothing earthy about the way clouds move.
- Patches of color. A grey sky is never one color. Deep greys layer white grays; pale gray-white adorns the sides; there’s a small pinhole of light for the sun with white clouds nearby.
All for now,
thoughts of a wanderer 