Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Clouds speak to me in ways I can hardly fathom. I can't ever remember their names. I do remember pink skies at night, sailor's delight; pink sky in the morning, sailor's take warning. Beyond that, clouds speak to me as does poetry and music. It goes beyond the images I can see in clouds, it's almost visceral. I remember the way the clouds looked the last night of my father's life and the way they looked on the way home from the hospital when I found out my Godmother had lung cancer. On a happier note, I remember so many gorgeous clouds on the way to the beach as a child and with my daughter years later. I remember being struck by the clouds a few days ago when I took this picture.