Lost in my thoughts of clouds and my cloud of thoughts, I wonder what Joni Mitchell, who saw both sides, would say right now. I feel like Alice, on the wrong side of the looking glass. Each square offers a glimpse I can see, but not experience. Still I’m here, aren’t I?
I put my lunch in the bin and move to place on small patch of city grass under a small city tree. People walk between my glorious view and me. I don’t really mind. The movie has become a stage play, and they’re characters meant to add context and color. My, how they do.
They don’t notice me, noticing them. Except for one.
A man with shining eyes and dark hair sits in the grass a few feet from me. He readies his camera. His mind is working, seeing, playing with ideas.
I ask, “Do you think we’re more like the reflection or more like the clouds?”
He smiles and says, “We get to pick − one, none, either, both, or another − don’t we?”
I knew that he and I would be friends for life.
I picked every answer. So did he.
−me strauss Letting me be
6 comments:
Liz, were you always the brightest child in class? This piece is nothing short of brilliant. And people wonder why my cookie always has the most chocolate chips in it. But you know. And that makes me smile, like Rog. :-)
Tree,
Thank you. I like being the clouds and the reflection and that guy with the camera looks a lot like you, I think.
Liz, what a great post! I love the photo and the story. And the title/response is so much fun for my travel-weary mind to sit with.
All of a sudden I have a line from a Howard Jones song wafting through my mind: There are those who move clouds . . .
Hi Dawn,
There are those who move clouds . . . ues. We can move them and be them and reflect them back to the sky. We make the weather.
This is a truly marvellous post!
Thanks Autumn,
I like this one too. I like the philosophy so much. which would you choose?
Post a Comment