Cloud Garden

The ponderous caravan tumbled slowly towards the end of sky, in delight, in grace untelling how many tons of water were held in cumulus vertical development.  The lifespan of such a cloud is about forty minutes before it dissolves or becomes a cumulonimbus formed by warm updrafts of moist air.  Traveling west back into the city, I saw above and before me the vault of heaven filled with these roiling giants scudding as a behemothic zoo, heavy with rain gathered from a glacial lake.  Fat, white, held in aerial suspension, they bloomed upwards in convective efflorescence, a line of cloud cells as glorious as a garden full of hollyhocks and summer lilies.  

Darker blues slid alongside pale tones of grey; one tower caught the setting sun to be illuminated from within, displaying a blue lantern glow with edges lavender.  There were churning eruptions of monstrous white rufflings, stirring back, curling under as ivory meristems. Some piled upwards into dense turrets, building girth for tomorrow's thunderstorm.  The clouds of severe weather are the cumulonimbus, divided by shape into Latin: arcus, calvus, capillatus, incus, mammatus, pannus, pileus, praecipitatio, tuba, velum and virga.  It never occurred to me that clouds fight gravity, they certainly are within the atmosphere and therefore subject to its force; but according to meteorologists, they stay in the air because water vapor is lighter than oxygen or nitrogen, making them less dense than the air around them. Essentially, they float, pushed by drafts and layers of wind.  I should look up more often, but maybe not while driving.

It rained most all day today in downpours that lasted 20 minutes each, giving the air a good washing.  The clouds brought in a cold front, dropping temperature down to mid-fifties, causing people to look for soup and last year's sweater.  The clouds have flattened, and are only discernible by the lowered ceiling of murkiness; also, the stars are blocked by the blanket of clouds that appear as shadows, there are no brilliant points in the sky this evening.  Do you see?  In the city, the buildings and lamps throw an artificial light, creating a sepulcherish orange glow in the night atmosphere...not far away, beyond the architecture of cement, how clear is your darkness? Are the astral maps visible, calling you to paths beyond dreams?  Do you check the back door, call in the dog, stow wet shoes under a bench?  Is there pause to look up at the night sky, where spin the planets before turning back to familiarity?  Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius.  Fall skies, deep clouds, earth change, sleep well.  Nodding children, love to all, paws to tail, head to rest.  Good night, good night.