Clouds have no families, no responsibilities. Born wanderers. Die, wanderers. They absorb every vapor (pain) in themselves and cry them out in the form of rain only when they’re full to their brim. White, translucent, innocent.”
—Akita Bala
All this weather turbulence of late has brought about some amazing and hypnotic cloud formations. Some of these photos—mostly of clouds—were taken on the Los Gatos Creek County Park and trails in between the latest rains. Once a former South Pacific Coast railway line, this urban green space is home to the Los Gatos Creek Trail, a mostly-paved route that runs about 10 miles from San Jose to the Lexington Reservoir. Other cloud groupings were photographed in the community where we live. Anyone can look and see the clouds, but it is worth the extra effort to seek out places where the clouds can be seen unobstructed by buildings. telephone lines and the like.
Clouds have been doing what they do for millions of years. Our cave swelling forbears have enjoyed the same sort of cloudscapes that we do now.
Cloud formations, for all who take time to engage them, are a magical part of creation, capable of altering our moods and reflecting our inner landscape of thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Staring deeply and mindfully into clouds or other parts of nature takes me away from my incessant chattering mind and into that sweet, still place within, that fills me with the experience of feeling alive and connected to all that is.
In an interview with KQED news, Gavin Pretor-Pinney, founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society, said he believes the world needs more cloud-enthusiasts. Cloud gazing, he says, provides a much-needed respite from the fast-paced, digital age. I happily agree.
Postscript: One of my favorite pix is the one I took of the mother and child feeding the seagulls, geese, ducks, and pigeons. I couldn’t ask for a better set up.
