A cloudy perspective

The late, much-missed Friendly Giant used to tell kids tuning in to his television show to "look up, waaaay up." Although I always understood the literal meaning - he was playing a giant, after all, and the camera would slowly pan up the outside of his "castle" (likely just a stack of painted cardboard boxes) to convince any children who still hadn't clued into his gimmick - I still missed the more subtle message buried within those simple words.

Of course, now that I'm older and wiser, I appreciate the wisdom of these words, and the figurative meaning that all adults would do well to consider.

With that in mind, I have evolved this habit - annoying to anyone who knows me well - of staring at the most mundane of scenes for an inordinate amount of time. I'm usually looking for something interesting, for the nugget within this sea of sameness that's worth pulling out, looking at in detail, and talking about over a mug of tea.

I suppose this odd behavior has its roots in my childhood habit of lying on the grass and staring at aircraft as they flew high overhead. I'd carefully watch as the contrails gradually evolved from thin pencils of white to jagged wisps. Eventually, long after the planes that caused them had disappeared into other time zones, the sky would be covered by these artificially-induced clouds. Then my Mom would call me in for supper and I'd have to explain why I was napping on the lawn.

I took this picture from my own lawn. The clouds are all natural, as far as I can tell, and I didn't have to lie down and wait hours for them to form. I was struck by the texture of the sky. I can almost reach out and feel the surface, in all its thickly overwhelming greyness.