A Walk in the Clouds

Clouds in mountains.jpgClouds are ethereal and ever shapeshifting. They are magical and mysterious. My favorite clouds are the upsloping clouds. The clouds hanging on the mountainsides and sinking low in the valleys. Close up they look like God tucking the mountains under thick downy blankets with their tree topped heads peeking out. From higher, craggy elevations the clouds look like a lake or the ocean. They are breath taking. We are fooled into thinking the familiar landscape has changed. We cannot see the damage of mankind’s grubby hands and greedy hearts.

Clouds in the valley.jpgToday I am particularly stressed. There are parts of my life that are unsettled. So to the mountains, I go. I slip out of cell service and into shrouded ancient forests.  Today the clouds are damp and heavy, nestling into valleys and clinging to the mountainsides. I drive up a steep and winding road to walk in the mist among the trees. At first, walking in the clouds is unnerving, and I am forced to be present. My field of vision is limited, I am unable to look back or ahead very far. In the winter, it is eerily quiet, there is not the autumnal whispering of the trees, nor the chattering of spring birds. This is a place to meditate. It is void of distraction. I concentrate on my breathing. The air is fresh and damp. I can smell cedar and their sticky drops of resin clutching to its bark.  Wispy cloud vapor swirls, rolls, and weaves among the trees. Walking in the clouds is a spiritual experience, It’s an opportunity to commune with God. It’s ironic that standing in the fog, I am able to clear my head of it.

When I was a kid, and I would walk in the clouds I would be transported to another world. With baited breath, I would expectantly wait, as if I might run into a hobbit, fairy or a woodland creature. Sometimes I still do.

Reluctantly I return to my car and ease down the mountain. I roll down the window and stick my hand out the window, swiping at the billowing white pockets of vapor. There is a traditional proverb that says, “A misty morning does not signify a cloudy day.” I reach the bottom and slowly roll onto the main road with a fresh perspective. I turn on my iPod. Frayman & Frip fill the speakers with “The Sky Below” off of their “Temple in the Clouds” album.  It’s magic.

For 100 songs with “Cloud” in the title click here.

I wrote this as a guest blogger for myglobalohana. Please check out her wonderful blog!  This month she is blogging about amazing clouds!

To see more of my blogs, go to FineDiningOnDiscourse.

Advertisements