I Love Getting Lost in the Clouds

by Dr. Unstoppable

I lose myself in the quiet times in between life's destinations.
As I drive from here to there, I smile at the humid kisses the sky peppers on the land.
I want to be a part of every moment I have and live thoroughly where I am.
I am grateful for the people in my life I can share moments with, especially my daughter.

I point out the fragile wisps of vapor living highest in the atmosphere.
She calls them icy ghosts and watches them slip in and out of the thin air.

It's hard to tell how far away clouds are without a weather balloon.
Being human sized we are limited in judging distances in the sky.

The next highest ones stretch from horizon to horizon.
A blanket of icy moisture on the troposphere extending in wavy rows as far as we can see.
It reminds me of my windshield in the morning but instead the condensation is on the globe.
She calls them blanket clouds.

There are other clouds, but our favorites are the low ones.
They have flat bottoms and billowing tops.
They look like fuzzy probability manifolds.
We stare at the wet clusters long enough until we see ourselves in them.
They become a flight of dragons, a fleet of ships and a soft of teddy bears gliding in the sunlight.
She calls them ice cream clouds.

As the day gives way to late afternoon the armada shifts to gray.
The crisp white carnival candy turns to silver soggy cotton.

Finally, the sun sets, and the sky lets loose with color.
The brilliant red-orange swirl flattens out, pointing at the sun as she slips beyond the horizon.
A grand solar system size ballet continues at a snail's pace until night falls.

The Earth continues to pirouette around her star, another cycle complete of billions.
Holding the moon in her gravity's embrace she hurtles wildly throught space along her giddy path.
She is indifferent to our human scale of time.

One day I will be dead.

This dance will continue without me.
With respect to those who disagree, I believe anything beyond an end is wishful thinking.
Feeling the chill of that eventual nothingness, I take a small breath of solace looking at my daughter.
Perhaps she will continue to enjoy and improve the thoughts I have savored when I am gone.

It's not a grand hallelujah kind of solace,
but it’s something.