In my old life, I rarely looked at the sky apart from the daily cursory glance to see whether the day would bring rain or shine, or on the occasion that a sunset caught my attention. I rushed through my life, my eyes towards the earth focused on where I would place my next hurried step.
The sky is always above me, night and day. There is comfort in this knowledge but an ignorant invisibility as well.
Now my life is slower, simpler and more time is spent outdoors. Now, I pay attention, I watch, I observe, I see.
The sky is rarely ever the same. Even when it is clear, the hues of blue are always subtly different. But the real beauty in the sky are the clouds. They appear, seemingly out of nowhere. My mind knows that there is a science behind their formation but this matters not to my heart.
I stare with child-like wonder at the magnificent white fairly floss puffs that hang in the sky. The formations are so huge and thick, they look as if I could bounce up and down on them before snuggling into a warm and restful slumber. Never before have I seen clouds so amazing as these. Everyday that I walk the streets of the places I travel, I look up at the sky and marvel at the awesomeness of clouds.