Clouds are surprisingly strong willed. Even the softest and fluffiest of them, has character. They sail where they please and care not a hoot for boundaries.
The whole sky is theirs to rove. And no one can shoot them down as they would an plane which encroaches on alien air – space. They are truly citizens of the world.
Clouds are whimsical things. If the mood overtakes them, they change into fantastic shapes. Like eccentric geniuses, without any concern for time or place. Clouds absorb the beauty of their surroundings. There are flame – tinted clouds which worship the sun. Or the flash of silver sunbeams reflected by the darkest rain cloud. Or wispy clouds which trap the moon beams as they sail across the placid face of the moon. For effortless enchantment a cloud wins hands down.
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