On Clouds
I have always loved clouds -- not the dark, nasty ones, but the white ones, fluffy or gaseous-looking (Technically, they are all gaseous). I love to just lay on the grass and gaze up at them. The sky can be so many different colors, but clouds are what make the sky look like a painting to me. Some of the most beautiful sights I have glimpsed involved clouds: lightning bolts jumping between them in a violet sky; rays of sunlight shining through them after the rain birthing a rainbow; blood red moons masked by them during an eclipse; brilliant pink canvas scattered with whisps (Spell Checker tells me that I have spelled this word wrong; I like it with an "h", I think it sounds more "whispy" with an "h". I shall ignore Spell Checker. Ha!) of them as the burning sun as it sets; and the peaceful dream-inspiring fluffy clouds on a bright spring day.
Why clouds cause me to daydream I am not quite sure. But they do. Sometimes, this has been good; other times it has only caused me to remember bad memories. But even then, the openness of the sky always helps me to see the freedom of the time ahead of me -- open horizons, I guess.
I wish that I had the free time nowadays to spent outside before it gets bitterly cold. Today was so gorgeous, yet I spent it indoors doing something I am terrible at.
I miss my clouds....
Why clouds cause me to daydream I am not quite sure. But they do. Sometimes, this has been good; other times it has only caused me to remember bad memories. But even then, the openness of the sky always helps me to see the freedom of the time ahead of me -- open horizons, I guess.
I wish that I had the free time nowadays to spent outside before it gets bitterly cold. Today was so gorgeous, yet I spent it indoors doing something I am terrible at.
I miss my clouds....