You know the way people lay in the grass and find shapes in the clouds? I play the same game, but facing the opposite direction. I sit atop a steep slope and dream-up creatures in the floats of ice that pass across the pond. They're carried by the wind, not by the current. Made primarily of snow flakes and rain drops, they are- in their own frozen way- a cloud. Sitting atop a sky of water, drifting away into the wind until they reach land. I see magnificant things in them. Frogs, swans, daisies, and ice skates. They are beautiful and full of inspiring potential. They offer up the opportunity to be turned into anything the mind can imagine. And quite often, when I am in their presence, such imagined shapes truly do come to life.
