Special thanks to Crispina Kemp for providing the photographs. I encourage readers to visit her at Crispina Kemp. You can also follow her on Twitter @crispinakemp1. All photos are copyrighted by Crispina Kemp.
Click the video above for 2 minutes of background waves while reading.
I like walking on the beach. It is good for the mind, body, and soul – and refreshing on my feet.
Yesterday was a gloomy day as the advancing cold front filled the sky with a seemingly thick blanket of gray. Because the front passed overnight, today’s sky is blue with a variety of clouds. As I compare the two days, clouds are my focus for today’s walk.
Yesterday’s clouds were a solid mass displaying a seemingly unlimited spectrum of gray – probably more than fifty. Their lower surface appeared rippled like a strong wind rippling the water. The movement of the lower clouds danced like cosmic smoke.
Today, the white has replaced the gray. The clouds are wispy above me and over the water – fluffy white inland. Those dark clouds of yesterday were filled with water and associated with storms. Today’s clouds are linked to pleasures as dreams and fun – yet still collection vessels of water. Interestingly, a thick cloud bank appears to cover the horizon across the water – but this is common.
Packed with water droplets, clouds are like sponges that eventually squeeze the water out that they can no longer hold. Yes, the rain. Yet, if there wasn’t water in the clouds, we would be without rainbows.
I notice a sailboat moving across the water, then look up thinking of clouds sailing across the sky. I notice the sailboat’s up-and-down movement on the waves, but imagine riding on clouds to be very smooth. However, airplanes passing through clouds can resemble a boat on choppy water.
The sky is the theatrical stage and the clouds are the actors signaling an always-changing atmosphere. As a continuous production – from wisps to puffs and calming white – from fluffy gray to dark, ominous gray then back to wisps or even a cloudless sky, clouds are a sign of constant change from was to is to what shall come.
Clouds serve as shape-shifting metaphors for dreams, magic, and imagination while serving as stairsteps to the heavens. To some, clouds represent the core of their inner soul.
I love sunrises on the coast, but I’m most excited when I notice clouds in the predawn light because clouds accent the glory of a new day. It’s then that the clouds and the sky display oranges, yellows, blues, grays, and black in varying brilliance. Yet, it is those same shades that can appear at the transition time of a brilliant sunset.
Clouds, from light strokes of the painter’s brush to areas filled with white paint to the dark, clouds are an important part of nature’s artistry. From wisps, patches, layers, rolls, ripples, heaps, and towering masses, clouds are merely complex collections of aqueous aerosols.
Clouds are an applicable symbol and metaphor for much. From the tempest of the clouds on the horizon or hanging over our head – through the clouds of suspicion and desperation – we are reminded that every cloud has a silver lining.
From wanting to grab one to grabbing one for a new idea, clouds are about dreams, hopes, emotions, and moods.
Whereas breezes can be touches of sensuality, clouds are the accompanying soft kisses. To others, clouds are the flowing hair of a goddess.
To some, clouds represent the deities above. To others, clouds are charms of happiness and luck. Some see clouds as full of mischief like kids bouncing off the fluffiness. To others, clouds are soft – a bosom to rest a cheek.
Kids lie on their backs searching the clouds for defined animal shapes – and the kids decide the winner. As we get older, clouds are for the dreams one holds for a positive tomorrow. Having our heads in the clouds is searching for a new revolutionary idea of what could be.
Anyone can watch clouds changing shape, especially in the lower clouds that are easier to see. Holes close, others open. Changes resembling slow movements of microscopic Amoeba.
Clouds are the blanket preventing us from seeing the blue sky and the sun. Clouds with an apparent hole allowing the sun to shine through. That same hole gives us a chance to peer through to the other side – a hole offering a glimpse of hope.
Although clouds can cover something in the distance, sometimes they lower to envelop us and limit our vision – surrounding us with the mystery and mystique we call fog.
Clouds are in the titles of countless poems, haikus, and stories. Far above the clouds, some seek cloud nine as others shout get off of my cloud. Life is full of storm clouds, and dark clouds on the horizon – let alone those constantly under a cloud.
With forms known as cumulus, stratus, cumulonimbus, cirrus, and stratiform, clouds change the aerial scenery because no two days are the same. We can count on clouds because if they are absent, they reliably return.
As I finish my walk, maybe it’s time to go to the balcony, sit on a chair, prop my feet up and a cloud, and let the mind drift into oblivion – just like a cloud. Thinking about clouds as I walk has been fun – and another reason why I like walking the beach. Plus, it is good for the mind, body, and soul – and refreshing on my feet.
See what other bloggers have posted about clouds
- Clouds at sunset straight up (photo)
- Sunset clouds (photo)
- Early morning clouds (photo series)
- Clouds Reflection (a photo series)
- Always the Clouds (poem)
- Clouds (Haiku, photos, & essay)
Next Post: Wind – Tuesday 24 November @ 1 AM (Eastern US)
Follow Beach Walk Reflections
- Facebook (BeachWalk Reflections)
- Instagram (BeachWalk Reflections)
- Twitter (@ReflectionsWalk)
- WordPress (Follow or Subscribe)