I’m a member of the Cloud Appreciation Society which was started up by Gavin Pretor-Pinney in 2005. As a child I was entranced by the vastness of the sky. I loved it best in summer, when it was blue with teased out, white, wispy, cirrus clouds. Lying in the grass on a hillside, lazily tracking the clouds across the sky as they changed into mythical monsters or blown thistledown, listening to a small aircraft buzzing in the far distance was heaven on earth. A bottle of dandelion and burdock and a Cadbury’s milk chocolate bar of ‘fruit and nut’ made it total paradise.
How grim it would be if the sky was just black all the time. But I suppose we wouldn’t be here because we need light to survive. Here’s an experiment capturing light and colour together with physics, geometry and mathematics. I did this with a glass – somehow … no, I don’t know how …
Sometimes at school the heavy greyish-white clouds reminded me of goosedown, softly protecting me from having to play hockey as they began to weep. I didn’t altogether get away with it but I did prefer long distance running in the rain.
The first time I was in an aeroplane I saw cumulous clouds that looked like giant vanilla ice cream cones – obviously organic and soooo delicious! Fluffy white clouds look so inviting to bed down in. The sky looks pristine – washed clean, and forever fresh – blue and white stretching out into infinity – a sea of tranquillity before the storm takes over.
and a rainbow to follow … treasure trove in Barnes!
This September we were blessed with an exquisite two week ‘Indian’ summer. Blue skies, the sun warm on our faces and backs. Everything stood out – clear as a church bell – it was as if I had been given new superpower specs. I felt buoyed up as if all was right with the world. A pity that it’s not.
I made my way home, a sourdough loaf under my arm. With a fresh cut slice covered in raspberry jam I balanced a cup of tea and made my way down to the summer house to catch the evening sun. These photos were taken in that one evening.
In London we don’t often have truly dramatic clouds but I managed to take this one, which reminded me of a five star, squashy, flying saucer.
Next day I had to be up at the crack of dawn as the decorator was arriving. No time for head in the clouds today but Andy brought sweet peas from his garden …
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