Poetry/Nature/Cloud

When Stories are Written in Clouds

Reciprocal Nature Prompt: Wondrous Clouds in the sky

Nephology: Cloud Facts

“We really have the most beautiful planet in our solar system. None other can sustain life like we know it. None other has blue water and white clouds covering colorful landmasses filled with thriving, beautiful, living things like human beings.”- Sunita Williams

I n recent turn of events, when humans found themselves chained by an invisible virus, up in the sky, the clouds smiled.

They have never been in the reckoning in a way before, apart from the dumped-in-the-corner, yet decorated Climate Change discussions.

The silent lender of aesthetics to a creative’s eyes, Clouds took centre stage, arranging meetings (zoom), handling publishing ( virtual spaces for publication), feeding the mass (Cloud kitchen), creating virtual cupboards for storing memories and information (Cloud storage) — thus broadening the concept of Cloud Computing. The world got connected through cloud which created new lexicon for the post Covid-era, adding meaning to its already existing ones.

In meteorology, a cloud is an aerosol consisting of a visible mass of miniature liquid droplets, frozen crystals, or other particles suspended in the atmosphere of a planetary body or similar space. Water or various other chemicals may compose the droplets and crystals. On Earth, clouds are formed as a result of saturation of the air when it is cooled to its dew point, or when it gains sufficient moisture (usually in the form of water vapor) from an adjacent source to raise the dew point to the ambient temperature. (wiki/Cloud).

There are different-types-of-clouds, depending on their height, colour, shape and weather conditions, which when learned, give an idea to days weather and changes in climate.

Integral part of earth’s Water Cycle, clouds warm and cool the planet.NASA’s CloudSat mission studies water in our atmosphere in the form of clouds. CloudSat gathers information about clouds and how they play a role in Earth’s climate. Also, the international satellite called the Global Precipitation Measurement Mission (GPM) observes when, where and how much it rains and snows on Earth (nasa.gov/water-cycle).

Over shadowing its all pervading trait and impact on Nature & Science, Clouds have historically sparked beauty, imagination, joy, fear and has lend its share of cents in literary articulation, genesis of metaphor and subsequent creation of poetry:

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast, As she dances about the sun. — The Cloud, By P B Shelley

Cloud, the Metaphor:

She sits on a bed of soft grass below the shady tree and looks above. A clear blue sky with white floating clouds remind her of the happier times, when she came here with her father as cloud watchers.She always found the clouds beautiful, striking in their unique shape, form and movement.

An artist’s touch to the easel of nature, they decorated the sky and captured her imagination. A poet’s eyes find castle in air or a camel walking, when layers of billowing cloud accumulate, defying all rules of architecture and acquires shapes the eyes wishes to see.

Her imaginative mind walks in the clouds, stands over it and looks at the real world below.

Everything shifts in her brain and she knows poetry is created in moments like these.

She remembers the time, when she wanted to touch the stars but only found a palm full of cloud evaporating like happiness.

Often the sky shrouded by the dark clouds spelled distress, yet the sun shining behind the thick, dark formation, gave clouds the silver lining, denoting the sliver of hope life always offers, if we intent to find her.

She becomes the person, who at the end of the day, picks up the brush and paints the clouds — the clouds which mark the moments of a day and phases of her life:

Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas; But clouds that sail across the sky Are prettier far than these. There are bridges on the rivers, As pretty as you please; But the bow that bridges heaven, And overtops the trees, And builds a road from earth to sky, Is prettier far than these. — The Rainbow , by Christina Rossetti

The Cloud Girl and her Journal of Poetry :

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” ― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds

Sky’s earth is blue. In its wave-less waters, her ship sails. Introverted, shy, she moves around in the vast blue canopy, freedom entailed, dressed in her layered white dress. Thick, dense forms fill her mind today. She can’t assign reasons to her heavy ness, on days like these. Vapour clumped and condensed, settle in every crack, hindering breathability. The day foggy with low visibility, she decided not to strain her eyes, but switch on her soul’s eyes to vision the distance. With wind beneath her mind-wings, she floats over the urban contour, the stunned trees rowed like siblings, blooms sick from polluting gases — all looking up to the sky for a relief. Almost out of breath, she opens her journal — a place where she jettisons her antsy. It’s not easy, but she keeps pushing her thought-tubes for words to flow like the colours from tubes, which paint her canvas to create the rainbows….

that azure obscured, twining ardour, my whole day mind fugitive fly

ears to air’s melody, call of mizzle in mind’s porch, eyes to soul’s window, time to return what is yours by you, for you always — rain.

your mist-y presence heals, pitter patter-y night, self-soliloquy, create visions that were mine, by you, for you always-rain. — Pluviophile (Haiku,Tanka) @M

Tears rolled down her hazed eyes. It travelled the vacuum, drops twirling with the wind, fell free pulled by gravitation.

The heavy cloud formation disappeared from the face of the sky.It died its natural death to birth rain.

As the wondrous clouds in the sky gave way, the planet is cooled following a shower, clearing the pale sky, the morning smog. Air filled its lungs as the dead retuned to life.

A happy Earth smelled of smiling blooms and petrichor — a cloud’s gift.

Author’s Note: I did not quite think writing about cloud would be a challenge. More so, because till date what ever I wrote largely revolved around the subject of Cloud. I wanted to add this note just to share with you how difficult it can get sometimes, when you attempt a generic subject like this, packing a little bit of science, fact, literature and poetry. But I am here and relieved. For more on cloud from me you can check Soul Bay @m

All photographs copyright © Monoreena Acharjee Majumdar

So, Thank you Dr. Preeti Singh for nudging us into head spins with your fabulous Nature Prompts for Reciprocal.

Thanking Yana Bostongirl and Sahil Patel for helming this place for reciprocation and camaraderie.

A beautiful cloud story bridging the old and new concepts by Neera Handa Dr in her story The-cloud-messenger

A wood tale that kept me engrossed in read Until-the-cows-come-home by Suma Narayan

Mushroom and woods is a combination I will go for too, but this one is by Cristina Cattai in her Memoir-of-my-wandering-in-search-of-mushrooms

Thank you for your visit and engagement. They always help to enrich:) And here’s wishing everyone Happy Thanks giving !