On Monday, the sky was again full of clouds. For a few weeks now, we’ve had empty, clear skies, which for some may constitute a perfect day … but I prefer clouds, for their beauty and for the interest they add.
(As Tolstoy wrote, “Every beautiful cloudless day resembles every other beautiful cloudless day, but each cloudy day is cloudy in its own way.”**
And it’s true! The sunny cloudless days are beautiful, but are hard (for me) to photograph, since they look much the same as every other sunny cloudless day. Of course, I am much more comfortable taking my camera out on those days than on any really rainy ones, not having to worry about it getting wet and destroyed, but it’s often more difficult to find interesting subjects to shoot. Blue skies, green grass, and so on. At least, they all look the same during any season, although each season certainly has its variations from the others.)
So I’m glad the clouds are back this week, a little. Monday’s were tiny wisps here and there.
Each puff seemed to be leaving some of itself in its wake as it drifted along, very slowly.
And for some alliteration, and because it let me photograph it briefly on our Monday morning walk before viciously attacking me (I think it didn’t like the shutter sound) let’s throw in a wasp.
But back to the clouds: they floated about all day, still wispy at sunset, which was also beautiful.
**OK, it’s actually: “All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
And I’m not really trying to say he was slacking off by writing Anna Karenina instead of a story about a happy family – the contrast of these clouds vs. the previous cloudless days just brought the line to mind. I think we’re all glad he choose the more interesting novel subject.