A cloudless sky is like a blank page–boring or intimidating, depending upon whether you are a reader or a writer. A sky with a bit of cloud sketched in, now, that is a sky that’s trying to work with you. Give you a hint of a story, or the suggestion of an idea. Catnip to the distractible mind. You have to appreciate a sky like that. I can stand out in the parking lot where I’m waiting to pick up a friend, my head thrown back to see the show, spinning around until I get tangled up in the dog leashes.
We are expecting to have some fine slate-colored clouds tomorrow, which should set off the remaining leaves nicely. Throw in a few skeins of geese tumbling about trying to get their migratory arrangements settled and I may have to sit down to watch, skipping the spinning part entirely. There’s only so much drama a person can handle in a day.