So much has already been said about clouds. And how could it not be so? So often around us.

Always changing, shifting, moving. Offering patterns and shapes to the sky, ripples and refractions of light, alerts to the oncoming storm, or reflections of the one that just passed … variation, mellowness, excitement. Or even contentment from the simple act of looking up.

I tuned into them one summer, learned the names of the types and sub-types and sub-sub-types, read a narrative about cloud watching, and got lost in the depth of information they store about our world. Like the rest of the sky, there is a thread there that connects us across oceans and continents. And yet I too often go about my day, head down, focused on the foreground and ignore their beauty. All the while, the clouds drift along, humbly, unnoticed.