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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

 

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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.

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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.

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

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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.

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

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

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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.

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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…

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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.

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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.

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

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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…

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