Distraction

Sitting on the floor, in what I like to call my corner of Barnes & Nobles, I'm enjoying the quiet that comes from reading Frost and a little Mary Oliver. They often choose small elements of nature for subjects, and so I should not be surprised at myself when I look up and out the window at the clouds.

Today is special because they have this intriguing three-dimensional look. They appear to me to have weight and mass, as if I could grasp them, stand atop their hills. I begin to laugh at myself when I realize that they remind me of the "Land Before Time" series that I watched when I was little, living in Maryland. They give off the same fantastical, far-away vibe, but make me feel as though they were a destination I could reach by lengthy journey. I close my eyes and see myself standing along the top of the great waterfall that first drew my eyes in the clouds. I watch as I let my body tip slowly forward and into the air, my arms straight out and my hair rippling out behind me.

I blink my eyes open and again towards the clouds, only to see the dimension of depth is leaving and nearly gone, and the layers are disintegrating into one another. The tufts that were once piled atop each other forming mountains teeming with drop-offs and falls are separating into nondescript, graying lines that sluggishly cross the coral-streaked sky.