Tuesday, November 08, 2011
I never tire of the sky. Possibly it began with the cloud games we all play as little children... and that one looks like a.... Over the years most give up the game until they have kids or grandkids to entertain. Not me. I've never stopped staring at the sky seeing scotty dogs and Abe Lincoln in the clouds, or watching jets draw contrail pentagrams on the horizon. But the best shows are early or late or stormy skies. Colors and silhouettes. Billows and streaks. Fire. More than once I've nearly run off the road watching its beauty unfold while trying to navigate an interstate. No officer, I have not been drinking, I was transfixed by the sunset. A likely story, unless he knew me. Then he'd understand; I'm just living in praise of the sky.