Skies

They laid on a blanket in the grass, watching clouds passing, speaking whatever came to mind.

"There are 4 types of clouds, sweetie. All of which derive from Latin words."

"Cirro for hairlike curl, Strato like a layer of blanket. Cumulo, a heap of fluffy cotton ball. Alto for the middle. And nimbus, when they all come together and create rain."

Her father pointed to the sky, "What does that one look like?"

"A fluffy white bunny!"

“And you can combine each of those words together to categorize all the different types of clouds you see in the sky.”

The sky darkened, a chill of a slight breeze, as drizzle gave hint of what was to come. "It looks like a storm is approaching", her father said as they began heading home. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater against her hands.

I never enjoy anything, always waiting for whatever's next. Sometimes l look back, sometimes I imagine what’s next, too busy trying to rush through everything, to get on with what is really supposed to be done with life. But there are these moments of clarity. The most brilliant clarity. Where for a second, the moment stops and the realization comes. Wait, this is it. This is where we are, and we better be there, because one day it'll be gone. It’ll be too late. It’ll be a memory.

"How have you been?"

"Well, and yourself?"

She threw a light soft blanket on the cargo bed of a pickup truck. It was a scene of grass fields, birds flying across the sky, deers prancing by, twinkles of light in flicker from fireflies. If only life was such a fairytale. She looked up. In his jeans and flip flops, he set up a tripod and began recording. It was a beautiful setting sun. There was a woven basket, which she prepared, laying in waiting. She took out 2 glasses and sets them aside, lighting a candle. Barefoot and a bottle of wine.

"You know"

"As the sun gets lower in the sky, the light needs to pass through more of the atmosphere. And as we watch the transient nature of the sun setting, small particles scatter the blue light, leaving the red, orange, and yellow light to pass straight through, to be able to reach you. Beautiful, isn’t it?"

They loved each other’s company, the world and beauty of what they saw painted. There was a comfort in their conversation and the silence in between. It was a vibe. Ahem. A vibration. For life was the moments that took their breaths away.