The old 1970s song lyrics say, “It never rains in Southern California,” and while that has been disproven plenty in the last few years, I can attest that it definitely rains less there than it does where I live now in Ohio. And I think that has a lot to do with the quality of the clouds. When we lived in SoCal, it was often sunny with few if any clouds. In Ohio, the clouds are thick and varied with fluctuating shapes and colors. Every moment brings change in their color and consistency, and you never know when the sun will peek through. Clouds have unfairly gained a bad reputation, in my opinion. Everybody wants a sunny day, but watching the complexities of clouds can yield a different kind of beauty that has a fleeting nature. As kids, my brothers and I would play a game in the car, finding animal shapes in the clouds. As soon as I pointed out a dog-shaped cloud to a sibling, it would morph into a turtle.
Even though I love to cloud watch, I forget to look up when I’m outside. Part of it stems from not wanting to trip over my one-year-old puppy, Evelyn, who stops to smell every spot of bird poop she can. But often I’m just looking at the ground right ahead of me, lost in thoughts about what I need to do that day. I don’t need to ruminate about what I’m doing after the walk. It’s already written down or scheduled. What I need to do is look up at the beauty of the clouds because they are going to change in a minute. That dog-shaped cloud isn’t going to be there in a second, and I’ll miss it.
The impermanence of clouds can give us perspective about the world and its troubles. I can’t stay focused on the hate, corruption, and cruelty without being consumed by it, wrung out and hopeless. I need beauty and joy as a counterbalance, a way to stay grounded in the world so I can live out my values of love, kindness, and neighborliness. So I’m looking up to the clouds, friends, for beauty and for hope that everything changes, sometimes sooner than we think. Look up, but also double knot your shoestrings, just to be safe.