The World Series has been won (and lost). It's time for the boys of Summer to take their toys and put them away until next Spring. This morning I caught a glimpse of blue sky that cheered me mightily. Most of the time, though, the clouds look more like they're threatening snow than rain. I'm trying to sort out if it's the quality of the light, the clouds, both, other that seems to transform Summer skies that look like rain to Autumn or Winter skies that look like they're full of flakes. And sometimes, in fact often, threatening clouds do nothing but.
rain clouds? snow clouds? mixed?
Photo by J. Harrington
When was the last time you lay on your back and decided what the clouds looked like? Don't you think it's time to try that again? After all, if it weren't for clouds, we wouldn't have sunrises like this one.
a cloud-enhanced sunrise
Photo by J. Harrington
Joni Mitchell sings about so many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way. That's probably true for many of us, including me all too often, but I'm slowly beginning to realize how insubstantial clouds really are. In fact, I've heard that sometimes they even have a silver lining, even if only to provide an opportunity to take a nap or to remember to listen to Simon and Garfunkle's version of Cloudy. And, I have it on very good authority that, no matter how cloudy the outlook after next Tuesday's elections, the world is unlikely to end no matter who wins or loses. Ralph Salisbury's Six Prayers should cover us.
Thunderer God of the turbulent sky maymy turbulent mind shapefor my peoplerain cloudsbeanspumpkinsand yams.
East SpiritDawn Spirit maybirds awaken inthe forest of teethwhose river your color must sayfrozen mountains’prayer that youwill loosen them.
Spirit of the Northwhose star is ourwhite marklike the blaze we chop in the black barkwhere the trail homedivideseven inour homeswe needyou to guide.
Spirit of the Sunset Westmay gray cloudshiding friends from meglowlike yoursthat we gropetoward each other througha vivid rose.
Spirit of the Southdirection ofwarm windwarm rainand the winter sunlike a pale painting of a morning gloryhelp me Spirit that in my mind humble thingsa man may give to his child may growthe blue of berryorange of squashcrimson of radishyellow of cornwhen the green of even the tallest pineis wolf tooth white.
Spirit of the Earthkeeper of Mother FatherSister Brotherloved ones allonce prayingas I prayor in some other waySpirit the black dirtis like the black cover ofa book whose wordsare black ink I cannot readbut I place my brown handon snowand pray that more than snowmay melt.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.