Much of my Sunday was spent unloading a trailer load of garden soil, distributing it evenly, and mixing it in with a pitchfork. It was arduous work, but it succeeded in taking my mind off my office job, and the occasional sun shower felt refreshing. By 4pm, my wife’s offer of a cold beer and a light snack was enticing, and so we sat on the balcony at times conversing, listening to the birds, or watching the clouds overhead.
The Ottawa Valley seems to catch and hold most of what we would like to avoid: overcast skies, high pollen counts, and hot humid summers, so when blue skies are decorated by a moving parade of ever changing clouds, we take notice.
The clouds appeared to be threatening, yet fragile. Their dense centres were dark and foreboding, while the outer white edges had wisps that were either attached, or were drifting nearby. If you stared long enough at these wisps, they eventually dissolved into nothing… much like any cares or worries that might have been on my mind…
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