I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now….

…Rows and flows of angels’ hair

And ice-cream castles in the air

And feather canyons everywhere

I’ve looked at clouds that way….

We are on a lookout point. The river snakes its lazy path many meters below us, every now and again bubbling over sandstone, as being tickled by the ancient landscape.

To our left, the local troop of baboon are preparing for their slumber high in the Paperbark false-thorn trees dotted in the cliff. The older members of the troupe cough, splutter. The younger one’s whine or have a last romp before darkness falls over the Waterberg.

A lazy Verreaux eagle floats by, using the thermal up draught to get to its nest high in on a rocky ledge just out of sight.

On the valley floor, where the river makes a bend, a single file of blue wildebeest makes their way to their chosen sleeping spot; aware of the possible danger of the spotted predator that shares this idyllic scene.

On cue, a leopard starts with its typical cough. Like a rough saw over hardwood. The young baboons stir, a baby yell. The older ones ignore the far-off call.

The sun dips behind a cloud. It looks angry. Dark. Red, orange, yellow flames. Dirty blue sky. Green. Changes follow with the silent breeze. The light becomes a living organism tempting description. Clouds transform into fantastical shapes.

A goose in mid-flight; dragon; seraph… the clouds lose their anger, transforms into silent sentinels.

With a final flourish of red and orange and blue, we bid the day goodbye.

…I really don’t know clouds at all….

(With reference Both sides now, Joni Michell; 1969)

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2019-07-05T07:18:38+00:00Weekly Blog|

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