It was during high school that I found myself looking up more. This was particularly the case when I was leaving at 6:45 in the morning with my father and my mind felt like it wasn’t even on yet. The drive made frequently let me imagine all the world above. Here is what I saw.
The reaching tendrils of light would always struggle to do the climb over the mountains in the distance. The sun pulled itself up using the giant floating white hand holds. You can tell that it had to warm up because it would start off with fresh red and pinks before settling on yellow for the day. Climbing slowly over the horizon, every day it had to do this, and every morning was a struggle.
The morning light woke up the clouds too, floating lifeless during the night. When the sun illuminated the inner crevices, it was as if it powered on. Whole cloud civilizations would awaken to resume the business it had before.
In some cloud, I could see the procession of the newly crowned monarch climb the brightened steps to become a representative to the gods above. The whole cloud embossed in gold in an uproar of celebrations, exploding as the lavish party carried on. There was a sense of joyousness and hope as the cloud grew larger and out of control as the festival went on. The cloud would grow taller and move quickly across the sky to spread the great news of their empire.
In other clouds, I could see debris. The clouds had the mighty heroes of old clashing. On the backs of mystical creatures, their swords would collide and scatter. Warriors spread about fighting and dying in the cloud as it painted with both white and red lights. Pieces of cloud coming apart as chaos ensued. The battlefield would stretch for miles, and with each clash, another page to the story written. The conflict unknown but no hopes of ending this clash until one or both becomes nothing.
Small clouds sometimes would paint small portraits of snapshots in time. Things like a man sitting in a comfy chair during the middle of the day while not wanting to go outside. Or a rabbit finding delicious grass to eat as it keeps its eyes out for predators. Small scenes from the life that projected themselves into the skies above.
My favorite type of clouds looked as if they painted the sky. Beautiful landscapes and scenes of nature. Fantastic rolling hill-scapes covered with grass and beautiful forests untouched by man. Seas and waves crashing on open shores, beating against the soft sand. Waterfalls and mountains were breaking free of their usual form to grow into even more spectacular forms. Speaking of peace which is unattainable within a city. It’s as if using emotion as the medium to create.
These giant floating worlds, all unique, dwarf me in scale bringing the whole world into perspective. I remember going to school and imagine all the great things that are happening among the clouds. The sun would fight against the clouds, some were steadfast and kept their ground, but others faded away never to be seen again. That’s why I like looking at the sky; I know I will always find something new.