Was this too whimsical?

I’m looking up to my right at the window view I have of great migrating clouds and thinking 17th-century Dutch paintings with sailboats in them, epic movie panoramic scenes, Castle In the Sky. The clouds are much lower in England. They’re currently in the vague forms of turtle heads, wide-open snake maws (or is it those chompers from Pac Man?).

The light and dark create a depth so striking they look like those deftly rendered nimbuses (or is it nimbi?) of paintings galore. Is it strange to think it’s strange that I find the natural world in its beauty to resemble an artificial depiction? Not really, in my opinion, considering how much time people tend to partition in their days and nights to observing the natural world around them. When you go to a gallery it’s to look at these kinds of scenes. When you’re walking to work it’s often eyes downcast, ears vibrating to pumping bass and strumming guitar (for some of us sitar, I’m sure), hands fumbling with your bag and mind thinking about your errands for the day.

I turn to my right again and the approaching cloud (pretty good speed today; don’t have to strain to see movement) is mammoth-like now. It’s a big fat gorgeous blob of dust, water, and who else knows – Delightful. How do these things hold their shape, anyway? Sometimes I feel a little silly staring at things so much, especially when I’m in public, but then again, how many of these people are going to notice me/care/even recognize me in two minutes? Probably not many. In the twenty-four hours that I get each day I would like to say that I know how the clouds were behaving that day.

In times of rush, I take the instant-yet-fleeting-nirvana approach to sightseeing – a quick but compelled glance around me gives me a feeling of awe and inspiration as I continue on my path – right now, to the Brown Bag meeting I’m probably going to be late for.

Was this too whimsical for you? I’ll probably write something terse and sarcastic soon.

Allison Chang
Development