The Clouds of San Antonio
I spend a lot of time looking at and admiring the clouds. My elder son gives me a funny look when I mention if a particular one looks cool or when I show excitement at an ominous-looking ridge moving in the sky. He's used to it by now, I suppose.
I'm in a new state now and the clouds are noticeably different than the ones in the Inland Northwest but they're still quite majestic. The flatness of the earth, and the lack of mountains give the wind and moisture far fewer impediments and allows the vapor to pool together in massive and monstrous forms.
The moisture comes up from a variety of sources and climbs up to join the flying sea. The science of temperature, air pressure, the wind, and gravity combine to create the shapes and colors we see above. The sun and its rays paint light on the great number of surfaces that can catch and hold the reflection. Within moments, white turns to blue, which turns to gray, then, as if by magic, the collection of water shifts a tiny bit and the mass bursts into orange as it captures and reflects light from the sun.
The clouds seem to be a bit different in every region in which I visit or live. Sometimes only slightly so but there are always unique shapes and sizes. I don't know the meteorological science behind them very well but that doesn't stop me from looking up to view and admire them.
I wouldn't call myself a daydreamer. That label has an air of unproductivity to it and I'm certainly not that. I like looking at them. They're an excuse to escape the stresses of the day and they give me a reminder that I'm living in the present moment. Their vastness reminds me that we're all just specks of dirt on the earth's surface and the knowledge of the great distances they travel and reminds me of the wider world.
Don't forget to look up!