It is a "my-breath-rushes-out-and-my-heart-skips-a-beat" experience. To rise through a dull and misty fog on an overcast, dark day and suddenly glimpse heaven. I have done that, with my nose pressed firmly to the tiny window, which invariably mists over with my afore-mentioned rushed-out-breath. That precise moment when I rise right above the clouds as they hang there in mid-air, in suspended animation, as if they are mighty surprised to find a non-cloud in their midst. When I am gently speeding past the fluffy landscape of clouds and wondering if they will indeed be as soft to the touch as they appear, it makes me feel so tiny and yet so blessed, like I am special :)
This time around it was an even more special sight. Moon mania is all very well, but lately I seem to have been captivated by the sun. Watching the sun rise, its blinding brightness and its warmth seeping into the clouds, making them seem translucent, making them come alive, was a delight!
The glaring, glowing sun, the black and golden clouds and the cold blue skies are like a study in contrasts. There are of course times when the clouds have been angrily thunderous, just waiting to spark and roar, while the sky looks darkly blue and black. Yet they are wondrous, in all their savage beauty. They never frighten me, because they never intend to do so. They just are. That is something to learn. To just be. Yourself. Alive.
The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious.
And why shouldn't it be? It is the same the angels breathe.
~Mark Twain
