I had commandeered a log from the log pile for the fireplace and sat on it in our living room. It was time to play. The front room had a row of windows that looked out onto the street.
After a while of playing, I eventually stayed still. I looked out the tops of the windows to the blue and white sky. I sat and noticed: The clouds were moving along steadily, enough to be detected.
What? Clouds move? I thought to myself.
I watched long enough to make sure they were moving. I kept my eyes fixed on one cloud segment until it moved from the top right corner of the small window to the bottom left corner. Once it was confirmed, I shouted to my mother, "Mom! Come here!" When she came in, slight alarm hung on her face, and she waited for an explanation.
"Look! The clouds are moving!"
"Yeah, that happens." As if to say, What? You haven't noticed that before? It's a fact of life. Clouds move.
She didn't dwell on my new discovery and soon went back to her activity.
But I stayed, transfixed at the sky, watching the unhurried and silent migration of the clouds.