Just Clouds

Just Clouds They seem just ordinary fill for a background, a fuzzy white or gray that doesn't grab the eye and distract from the more deserving stuff like trees, sweeping ocean views and mountain lakes. Clouds lack a clean line. They seldom get prime billing unless infused with anger and about to burst, or wear the outrageous colors of a rising or setting sun. Many exclude them altogether with a preference for a blue, totally cloudless sky. Frankly, total blue is boring to me. Give me tufts of purest white drifting soundlessly across an otherwise featureless sky, big bellied storm clouds, dark and sagging with weight, rumbling with thunder, letting their load of water go. And wrap me in the soft, filtered light of low, misty clouds that have learnt how to weep, keep me safe from the big towering giants that grow with menace on a distant horizon and bless me with the unseen ones that send down a gentle rain at night to lull me off to sleep.