| I love watching clouds. When we drive home at night, (we drive west
into the sunset) we always 'see things' in the clouds.... but
I always watch them...this afternoon, I lay out briefly in the
unmown grass and the violets and watched the clouds...
do you see things in the clouds?
One of the most profound experiences I ever had with clouds was
when Don and I with two of the kids as babies were at a Christian
retreat center (Ruth Carter Stapleton was the speaker I think)...
and we used to gather to exercise on a meadow on the top of a hill...
as everyone left a huge, cumulous cloud swooped low over the meadow,
so it was still a cloud, not fog, but so close as to be touchable...
what bothered me, was in my glory of watching this magnificent
ship of God gliding over us, that no one else even saw it, until
I showed it to them, and even then only a few *saw* it as I did.
it was an incredible experience.... I can still close my eyes and
see it...
BJ
|
| Growing up in Iowa, the sky was a lot bigger than here in New England, the
horizon much farther away. You could see a dark line on the horizon in the
morning and know that in the afternoon there would be a thunderstorm.
Every time you looked at it it was closer, and the thunderhead more defined,
looming over the land. It was inexorable, and the lightning danced beneath
the shrouding clouds. And tornadoes! Awesome, yet I had a curiosity and joy
of watching these things that knew no fear. (Even when once, the car I was
riding in was gently lifted by a tornado and deposited on the side of the
road.)
In Pennsylvania I used to go and ride my bike in the night rainstorms.
Foolish, but again, I knew no fear. In college I learned more about the sheer
physical power of thunderstorms, and that only enhanced my appreciation of
them, as we sat on our front porch and cheered each lightning strike, hoping
it would hit Hammerschlag Hall .-)
These days, the weather seems more random, perhaps because the trees and hills
blocks my view of what's on the horizon, and while we haven't had any great
"nor'easters" recently, I've learned the practicalities of storing food, fuel,
and water and the true community that such deluges give rise to. (I was here
for the "blizzard of '78".)
Yet after attending to the practicalities, I can still celebrate the power of
God evinced in the cumulonimbus, the delicate artistry of high flying cirrus,
and even the mundane cumulus.
Fun topic, Dave! Thanks.
Peace,
Jim
|
| Clouds have always been very special. To me the sky is like God's
palette with so many shapes and hues that are painted upon it.
As a child I remember the very first time I ever looked up into the
sky and noticed that clouds moved. I was about 3 or 4 and I was in
a meadow next to my grandfather's house playing by myself. After
awhile I got tired and laid down to rest on the grass under a tall
oak tree. As I did I began to look up into the sky. To my
amazement summer clouds of all different shapes and sizes were
moving across the sky. I can remember even at that young age
slipping into a contemplative space inside and being awed at what
I "discovered." The day and night sky has fascinated me ever since,
and storms -- I love them!!
Thanks for reminding me of this Dave,
Karen
|
| There is an annual period where it rains nearly every afternoon
in Colorado Springs, then usually it stops raining and the clouds break up
just in time to reveal a bright, almost harshly bright, sunset.
One summer evening, the clouds in the East formed a magnificent
iridescent wall in the sky opposite the setting sun. The cloud-wall exuded
brilliantly illusive and pulsating colors. I was awed.
What terrible energy there was in that storm! But we never felt it.
The storm was headed away from us. The plains to the East were battered that
summer's eve.
Yes, the sun and the rain; both promote life and both are capable
of destroying life. Jesus said that the sun and the rain fall on the good
and the evil alike.
Richard
|
|
re.5
Reminds me of the time that my wife and I were backpacking in the Weminuche
Wilderness (west of Creede Colo.). We had set up camp near evening on a low
point of the continential divide. Then we heard a lightning storm in distance
and heard it slowly move its way up the canyon to the top of the pass where we
were huddled in our little dome tent. Eventually the we could hear no thunder
at all and only "popping sounds" around the tent. By that time we had taken
off all pieces of metal, sat hugging each other, and determined that we were
going to go together!
But alas, the Lord had other plans for us.
Ace
|