As a child, I imagined clouds were designs made of pure cotton. Created artistically by a mysterious being. I looked for patterns and animal or human shapes in the clouds.
As a science teacher, I taught names and types of clouds. I often felt that the beautiful, free clouds didn’t belong in a textbook. As it took the magic away and made them look and sound ordinary.
As an air traveler looking through the oblong window, the clouds seem so close that I want to reach out and touch them. I close my eyes and imagine my fingers feeling the fluffy, pillowy texture. While wondering how lovely it must be to be almost weightless and glide freely in the sky.
As a walker, I look at them. The clouds seem far away and unattainable – – to be admired and left alone.
As I travel in the car (when not driving) with the freedom to look around, I take pictures of the clouds. They seem to change constantly and appear mysterious as the car speeds.
As a nature lover, I am fascinated by the various shades of the blue sky against which nestle the white, cream, grey-colored clouds. And, the sun with ever-changing colors playing hide and seek among them.
As an optimist, I look at the gray, dark clouds and know it is a good sign. A sign that their downpour will quench the parched earth and all the plants thirsty from a hot summer. I welcome the accompanying coolness and the smell of the soil as it hungrily gulps down the rainwater. I can picture the joy on kids’ faces as they run around arms stretched wide – – delighted faces upturned to let the droplets cool their hot faces – – laughing, playing in puddles, and splashing each other till every inch of their clothing and body is drenched!
As an eternal wonderer, I love looking at the clouds and wondering!