All my life Ive been fascinated by, and drawn to, clouds in the sky. Their infinite shapes varieties and colors, depending on atmospheric conditions and the angle of the sun in the sky, have me often looking up at them whenever I’m outside, or perhaps from my upstairs bedroom window. Clouds comfort me, uplift me, warn me and let me think deep and lofty thoughts.
In short, they are so beautiful and ethereal, and they both radiate the sunlight and shield us from its harshest glare. The winter sky is bare and blue, mostly bereft of clouds. I’ll abide the heat and humidity of summer for the reward of abundant clouds as I now bid farewell to this strange winter now just about past.
by John Wilson
A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow;
Long had I watched the glory moving on,
O’er the still radiance of the lake below:
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow,
E’en in its very motion there was rest,
While every breath of eve that chanced to blow,
Wafted the traveler to the beauteous west.
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul,
To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given,
And by the breath of mercy made to roll
Right onward to the golden gate of heaven,
While to the eye of faith it peaceful lies,
And tells to man his glorious destinies.
By Percy Bysshe Shelly
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
For the complete poem:
A selection of my cloud photos taken over the past year: