Recently the evening sky has been angry my friend. But given a dry vantage point I find myself able to appreciate the structure of the clouds, the turbulence in the atmosphere and the interaction of the sunset. Sometimes I'm caught in the storm, but I can still look for silver linings and rainbows. There is great majesty in nature. And if you look long enough you'll see the...clouds.
As I ride to the west beneath the power lines and between the hedges, I think of one of my favorite passages (from E.B. White's Stuart Little). Stuart is lovesick for the lost bird Margalo, and describes her to the Lineman in case he should run across her:
"She comes from fields once tall with wheat, from pastures deep in fern and thistle; she comes from vales of meadowsweet, and she loves to whistle."
