As I walk outside, wind tickles my cheeks, and I smile. I don't know why, but this always causes me to look toward the sky. Today it amazes me just how brilliantly real it looks. The sky itself is the color of baby blue, exactly. The kind of color that makes you want to walk or run or skip or jump, or just do anything to feel alive. It makes you happy you're alive, too. And personally, I can say, that is not always the case in life. So a sky like this is worthy of almost anything you can think of to celebrate it.
Blocking out portions of that light blue, milky kind of overhang are clouds, all different and yet all alike. Though there is wind all around me, the fluff-balls remain unchanged. Some of them are all bright white and solid, others ranging in shades white and looking softer than cotton. Occasionally one will wander out of place and cover up the burning, hot sun, but the big ones stay directly above me. I study them and study them and study them again, trying to capture their magnificence. I don't think even these words do them justice.
Really great poignant detail, Carolina. Sometimes nature can really grab our attention, can't it? And you're right, nature is always tough to write about. It's hard to get that sense of something big, something that stretches out in front of us, down on the page. "Blocking out portions of that light blue, milky kind of overhang are clouds," I think you've got some very nice description here.
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