You can lie on the ground and look at the clouds at any time of year, but there is something about summertime—the warmth, the leisure—that makes it perfect. Clouds are like dreams, fleeting, changing, hard to hold onto but beautiful and fascinating. I’ve been told on good authority that the Aborigines call their existence “the dreaming” (not the “dreamtime,” as some call it). Both are great terms and imply the fleeting illusion and beauty of all existence.
What are your dreams? How are you dreaming your reality into existence? If you could dream anything into being, what would it be? Lie outside and watch the clouds. What signs are they sending you? I took a picture of this cloud because it reminded me of a white feather (even though it is pink!), and that’s what my mother’s Native American name was. I felt she was sending me a message from the Dreaming that everything is wonderful.
Lying outside and watching the clouds pass by… Yes, it is wonderful
Make sure to come back tomorrow!