clouds persist. the australian girl inside me, no matter how i squash her, waits and looks for clouds in the sky. a day of fluffy white clouds, a thunderstorm approaching, or wisps spread sparingly across the sky.
i learned about clouds early. i even learned their names, although now that knowledge has fallen away for other things to slot into order. between growing up on a farm and being dragged to dusty gliding competitions, i learned to revere and despise them for the happiness they offered, or took away.
i often wonder how i spent my days before i had things to worry about (probably until i was 10 or 11), but i suspect that there was some green grass, a shady spot, and a pillow to lay my head so i could watch the clouds go by. and a book. always a book.
there are photographs of us in year 12 on our final day of highschool, dressed in full uniform (as i rarely was), laying on our backs in the park, giggling with the sensation of equal parts joy and fear. i imagine us laying there, looking upwards with heads too full to notice fluffy white, set on bright blue.
and now, every time i drive home in time to catch the sunset, i stop to take a picture of the light caught by those tiny water particles, the ones that reflect the oranges and pinks. my collection of cloud photos is growing in size, in case there comes a day when i leave all this and go somewhere without clouds.
Pretty, these clouds of words
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