I walked outside to take in some sun. Such a bright day. The birds were singing and me lollygagging amongst the salad-scaping is all that made sense for that moment. I picked a few weeds: darn English ivy; snacked on some parsley and kale, and played in the soil letting it dirty my fingernails.
Hearing a nearby “caw” I stopped and straightened to watch a crow fly by. Yet, rather than focus my gaze on the passing corvid, my sights got stuck on the most beautiful cloud ever.
That cloud was a colorful little cirrus number cruising on the mid-atmosphere winds; it was so lovely that my response to its swirls of color was ask it to dance. “Wanna dance!?” I shouted, silently, as this was my front yard and talking to clouds might clinch The Crazy that is pending for me.
Clouds must have remarkable hearing as its answer was clearly yes. Now the most beautiful cloud ever danced as only clouds can do. For a partner it had chosen the wind and the two of them put on quite a show. The cloud skimming the dance floor and twirling on the lead of the lofty currents. The winds showing off its gorgeous and elegant partner, with its flowy skirt tails whirling.
Forgetting that I too should be dancing, I stood in awe and watched the spectacle. I was not alone in observing the dance for clearly the sun had been watching too. I know this because just as I forgot to dance, the sun forgot to hold its place in the sky. Ever so briefly the sun started following the cloud, hoping to cut in no doubt. It moved for only a second. Only one. But I saw it. Good thing I didn’t blink, for as quick as a snap it pulled behind the cloud and froze, embarrassed by its lack of decorum.
Then, tiring of the dance, the cloud let the wind scatter its vaporous essence until only wisps remained. Soon the cloud returned to white and resumed its northward march. The sun carried on with its slow westward sway across the southern sky. I returned to grazing on garden greens and listening for crows.