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