May the skies be the only space where drama unfolds this spring season, and may the weather stay up there instead of down here. That probably doesn’t make much sense – if it’s happening up there it will eventually fall down here, at least as far as precipitation goes. I’m not a meteorologist, as if it needs noting, so nothing coming out of my mouth should make much sense as far as those things go. I do know a pretty sky when I see it, and even the grayest and most cloudy one has merit; often they are more interesting than a sky of blue.
This post is getting away from me before it even has a chance to establish itself. Some springs are like that too – they tease a day of warmth, followed by three days of frigidness. A cruel bit of bait and switch, and the sky refusing to give up its secrets.
