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Clouds on a Summer Sunday

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It was two o’clock on Sunday when the summer sun was high in the sky, baking the blades of grass that were already brown, thin, and parched from lack of rain.

But my eyes were not on the ground as I drove through the gate and gazed across the ranch.

I searched for the familiar views I have seen many times before, and consistent with the powerful expectancy of always seeing wonder, the familiar views were changed as if I had never seen them.

Layers of clouds stretched to the horizon, like an army in formation,

filling the sky with a magnificence my camera lens could never capture.

My photos frame the view as if there was a ceiling to the canvas,

but the experience was as if I was standing in a snow globe with clouds spanning from above my head

down to the horizon 360 degrees around me.

I followed the ribbon of roads around the ranch,

lured by the clouds in front of me.

I was not versed in a single view that prior to this visit I was confident I had known.

My spanning took in every detail of the outfit worn by the sky for the day — the columns and rows of fluffy white,

the solitary cloud set apart,

together with the light and shadows changing with my every turn —

no doubt couture of the Creator.

How lacking is the definition of a cloud — a mass of water particles in the air — in describing the scene I saw.

It stirred in me the emotion of awe

and also humility in the presence of such grandeur.

A wonderful love is revealed in the gift of the creation.

Oh, what if I had stayed inside and missed the peaceful drama swirling toward the heavens above my head?

Sharing the wonder.

Step outside.

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