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.
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