I wish I had a book that would tell me about clouds. In the morning, drinking my tea in bed, I watch them going by from West to East, or going over the house, South. Their shapes are wonderful if you have a good insight and imagination.
The other day I watched some, as they passed, become mountains with mist half way up the peaks. As they slowly moved, revealing a lovely blue, they would become a lake or long river. Other clouds transformed into atomic explosions. Others just dark and fluffy, going together, getting tangled, then pulling apart.
In the morning, a dark grey mass at the bottom of the window. This dark grey doesn’t move like the upper layer of cloud. The upper layer moves far quicker. I’m fascinated with colours too. White, light golden, dark umber. Each morning I see, through my imagination and insight, lovely pictures. All depending on the gasses and turbulence in the sky.
by Anne Knight