A thousand particles of water droplets. A million tiny ice crystals. A fleeting mass of astonishing visuals suspended above us and strung across the atmosphere in a free form motion of flight. Cast your eyes skyward and read the signs.
Cumulus: Fluffy white heaps of cotton wool that promise the kiss of summer. Stratus: The bringer of just a light dousing of drizzle – perhaps even snow. Cirrus: High wispy strands curled around the sky like an innocent lock of hair but still the forward phalanx of a tropical cyclone. Nimbus: Looming large and filled with heavy foreboding. Dark as thunder and swollen with rain – yet sometimes edged with a silver lining.
A paradox of meaning, an infinite distraction, a celebration of being. Clouds – sustainers of life. No app necessary.
Dedicated to VERLYN KLINKENBORG – the extraordinary writer of New York Times column, The Rural Life.