Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Whoa there big fella
Sometimes you have to stop, just STOP, lean your head back and gaze at the clouds. I love clouds because they are almost always dramatic - well except for stratus clouds, universally known as the "boring" cloud.
In San Francisco when the fog came rolling over Twin Peaks, no matter how busy I was, no matter how much in a hurry or absorbed in other activities, I always stopped, faced west, opened my eyes and took in the drama. From my back deck, or from the living room at the house on York Street, or from underneath the rolling fog, such as in Cole Valley, that sight is completely breathtaking.
In Tahoe, (where it is mostly sunny and clear), every now and then lenticular clouds appear out of the nowhere. They are completely worthy of a slack jawed stare and at least one oh wow, oh yeah.
The clouds here in the American midatlantic are very different than western clouds. Last night the formations were incredible, reminding me of what the illuminist painters were trying to capture when they did those big ole landscapes. Yin clouds met yang clouds, a gold square screen of cloud and sky opened up for a few minutes just south of the Capitol (or so it seemed). A shelf of cloud hung just above some cumulus clouds. Earlier, a patch of cloud fringe dangled from the shelf into empty blue. Wow.
I'll admit I always chafe a bit when I read or hear that Buddhist aphorism about clouds obscuring the sky. I know they use that metaphor to help describe the ephemeral nature of passing emotions, passing thoughts. But what would the sky be like without my brothers, the clouds? Well? No clouds, no rain. No rain, no life.
I love clouds.