I've always liked clouds, especially on days where they dance on blue skies. The puffy, cotton ball ones. The flimsy ones that look like they were pulled from the end of a Q-Tip. The cotton candy clouds that I like to think would taste like Haagan Daas lemon sorbet, the kind that has no artificial coloring, just tart white iciness. (The kind that I haven't purchased since last summer when I thought it was a splurge at "two for $5"... the good ol' days).
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| Cotton ball, anyone? |
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| Cotton Candy. Yumm. |
I like the way the clouds blow across the sky, transforming their shape.
And, I like the way they just sit there contentedly, providing a temporary hiding spot for the sun or an airplane.
I tend to prefer the soft, cotton ball clouds that look like they smell of fresh linen, until I see those billowy grey ones with the sun hitting them just right so they look like satin--the proverbial clouds with silver linings.
I like the shadows that the clouds cast on the ground (moreso looking down from a plane, of course, than when I'm in one of those shadows and it's cold). I like the way that the clouds sometimes look untouchable, but sometimes look like you could reach them if you just had a bouncy enough trampoline.
It is crazy to look up at the clouds and think that
every person and animal on this
earth. sometime, somewhere, gazes upon the clouds and just takes in their magnificence. The clouds, they belong to nobody and are so easy to share. I can get lost in them like I get lost staring into the flames of a campfire.
When I was a kid, I remember lying on my back in the grass at the playground, or on a towel on the beach, and looking up at the clouds in the sky. I would look at the clouds to see if I could see a shape, or an animal, or some other semblance in the clouds. I remember thinking that, with so many clouds, it should be so easy. Yet, my recollection is that I was never able to find anything very good. This inability to find animals, people, cars, or other things in the clouds just validated my belief that I lacked imagination and creativity. I loved clouds. They were magnificent and fascinating, but I saw them as miracles to be admired for their beauty and function, not as playthings or distractions. Just
clouds, for heaven's sake.
Well, the other day was a "primo" day for clouds, and I decided I was going to attempt to free myself from the label I had attached to myself--the label that said this girl is the rational, organized, analytical, and practical achiever, and the delusion that being a practical realist, not dreaming of what things could be or might become, was a good thing. I gave the cloud watching another try. To my surprise, I found success this day as I sat outside on a chair, camera in hand, and named the clouds:
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| Elephant. |
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| Horse. |
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| Airplane. |
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| Seahorse? |
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| Flying pig. |
There was something about being able to find a horse, an airplane, or a flying pig in the clouds that I found uplifting. Though it started as a challenge, it actually ended up being pure fun and enjoyment. Perhaps it sounds crazy, but I actually felt like I learned something, like I developed a new skill, or somehow came out of my shell a bit. I didn't feel guilty about the hour I spent making cloud figurines. Let me tell ya, for someone like me, that's life changing. I'm growing up, and I'm finally looking for and finding figures in the clouds. Sure, I still will score off the charts in the "analytical" category of the Myers-Briggs test, but I will take less pride in it. I will be aware that there is something valuable about having one's head in the clouds at least some of the time.
