Jul. 7, 2008
The Clouds Have Come to Sleep Upon the Mountains
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Traveling home on Interstate 77 Sunday evening, the landscape was changed from its normal green trees, blue sky, and gray concrete. What I saw was breathtaking, something I have only seen a blessed few times in my life. What I saw has worked its way into my mind and clung to my imagination, just as the clouds themselves clung to the branches on the trees. Here is my fanciful description of it... The sky does not end today. The clouds have come to sleep upon the mountains. The whites and grays, lights and darks are stretching lazily in the crevices of the green mountains. Gauzy white masses float down upon the treetops. The trees think they have found a blanket, but the clouds have found a bed. Some wayward white wisps have drifted beneath the bridge, to hide under its yawning steel expanse and laugh at how far they have drifted from their usual home high above the trees, above the birds, above the far reach of man's imagination. |
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