It has been a summer of clouds. Of rain too, but more so, big, beautiful, lean over your steering wheel and gaze up at the sky, clouds.
As a photographer, I love them. They swirl slowly overhead, adding interest to plain blue skies and offering the welcome gift of diffused light on a bride’s face.
As a daydreamer, as a lean-over-the-steering-wheel-in-awe sort of person, I drove home last night in a state nothing short of wonder.
In my car with my children, on a long country type road, we drove beneath pink and orange fringed clouds like patches of quilt draped over the sky. Low setting sunlight seeped through the cracks, hints of blue, of what’s really there, coming and going as the clouds shifted.
Asher asked how the sun went to sleep and we talked for a moment about the turning of the world, and how we don’t get dizzy, but it still happens. I pointed to the slow moving clouds overhead and talked about what was beyond them, that we are in a state, in a country, on a planet, on a sphere, circling around a sun.
He dozed off and I was left with the enormity of God and the universe on my heart. These clouds, diffusing light, bringing rain, moving to give us glimpses of sun.
I wound my car up and down the hill to our home, feeling like a single grain of sand, like flash of dust floating by a window and then gone. How every earnest struggle and plight is fleeting. How every desire and forceful act of will, is only an exhale. I, this moment we are living in, this summer of changes and clouds, is drifting, passing, even as I type.
How small and insignificant we all are. Yet, wonderful just the same.