The cloud whisperer

That’s what I have become. A cloud whisperer. As a child, in the days when kids could vanish all day and the parents had no idea of where we were hanging out, I would grab my bike, book, and run. I mean, go, explore the big world. I went where my nose pointed me. Often to end up in a field with wheat, on my belly, devouring book after book, week after week. Tired of reading I would turn on my back and watch clouds. Seeing magical worlds.


Now as a grownup and living in big sky country, I still watch clouds. They have a strong pull on me, fleeting shapes, whales, birds, fluff, spotted… Clouds, my camera, and a bit of wilderness. Nothing beats it, as long as there are clouds above.


The more threatening they are, the more I am impressed. They have a secret life of their own. Coming and going as they wish. No borders, no crossings, they float in all directions, over land and sea.


And in the evening, when I am home, I keep an eye out towards the skies in back and front of the house. Waiting for sunset. Desert day endings are often spectacular. Especially in Monsoon season. I still think it is weird to have a monsoon season in the desert. It’s a generally accepted term though. It rains if we are lucky, pours is a better word, and an hour later the drash is over and things get back to their deserty-bluey-sunny skies.



Nested in my back garden, I watch the greys and oranges and reds, a happy camper in my new life. I am starting to really feel at home. My cloud whispering might have something to do with it. Who knows. And I made a secret vow to start blogging again, for real this time. If life gets too busy, I will still try to post at least one pic a day. The slacking has to stop.

Call on me when I try to disappear again



Goodmorning Sunshine

Another day of packing ahead. I am catching my breath. Watching packers pack is a breeze. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken us to pack it all ourselves.


I took a drive to Pateley Bridge yesterday to pick up a frame at the framers. I needed it back or it would not have made the boxes. And while we are leaving next week, I am enjoying the nicest views still. I have always loved the North Yorkshire scenery. I will take it with me, the memories.


A small wave to the fake butcher in the High Street.


I smiled at him many times, every week I drove to my drawing class and he stood there, with his chopping knife. His mustache nicely curled. On the way back home I spot some blooming heather. I will try to make one more drive up on the Moors around Pateley.


Besides plants, trees and walls, I also have enjoyed horses on the road. Nothing like it. Smiling people on smiling horses.


Closer to home, in the meadow that we look over from our living room or kitchen, there’s the sheep.


I love them. I fed them some old bread yesterday, and some veggies that had to go out of the fridge. They flocked like only sheep can.


They loved the apples too. Pushed each other out of the way as it is not easy for a sheep to nibble on a piece of rolling fruit. They managed in the end. Bread, apples, carrots and a lost lettuce are gone in two minutes. When I make a sudden movement they all run. Silly beasts…


We filled the squirrel feeders for a last time. The squirrels can go nuts on those for a couple of days and will have to find their own food again from now on.


By four o’clock in the afternoon yesterday the books were closed, packers left with only the kitchen and scrap room left for today. I packed my packrat. Moose is my friend for my granddaughters Skype chats.


And from our hotel room in Harrogate I can see the town. Beautiful city. Another load of nice memories…



On the other side the Majestic hotel, with its royal tourets. And all the green in the center of Harrogate. It was my home for 13 years.
Tomorrow is load-that-container day!
We are ready for it…