“How sweet to be a cloud floating in the blue.”
My walking efforts continued on Thursday, and when my friend Roland and I arrived at Pearl Beach, there was this lone, ginormous cumulus cloud out on the horizon looking like a pavlova on steroids or a freshly picked cauliflower still as white as snow.
“If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations.“
-Charles M. Schulz
It was absolutely magical, and like something out of a proverbial fairy tale. A castle in the sky, or perhaps a well-camouflaged spaceship and the aliens had really landed. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.
“Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.”
– Maya Angelou
Moreover, I didn’t want to know the science behind it either, and why this one massive cloud was out there dominating the skyscape when so much of it was a blue canvas. I just wanted to revel in its beauty through the lens, and make sure I had some truly worthy images reflecting its spectacular magnificence.
Of course, you don’t need me to tell you there’s something truly amazing about clouds. Who doesn’t feel enchanted watching them drift slowly across the sky on a windless day, or changing shapes and metamorphosing in the wind?
“The clouds,- the only birds that never sleep.”
Then, of course, there’s a photographer’s frustration when a blanket of cloud cover blocks out the light dulling a magnificent landscape and killing the shot. I’ve also been known to go cloud chasing with my camera in tow, and that’s landed me in some dangerous strife.
Indeed, a few years ago, I got caught up in a nasty hail storm photographing huge, foreboding black clouds down at our local beach. Absolutely terrified, I was left sheltering in our car facing directly into the storm and my windscreen was the first point of contact. I am really surprised it didn’t smash, and I felt like Ziggy stuck out in space in his tin can waiting for that storm to clear. Indeed, I arrived home to find our back roof had smashed open, and had been peppered with hail bullet holes and the rain was pouring into our office. Moreover, much to my acute embarrassment, my son was on the phone to emergency reporting Mummy missing in the storm and the roof caved in. Humph, just like storm chasing, cloud chasing has its perils and I’m now a lot more cautious, although as this photo reveals, I haven’t lost my love of photographing freakishly big clouds, even if they’re usually a warning of same kind of trouble and a time to go home, not to set up the lens.
“Behind the cloud, the sun is still shining.”
Has this time of the coronavirus where we’ve had to shelter away from each other, increased your interactions with nature? Have you been going for more walks or appreciating the outdoors in some other way, perhaps through gardening? As usual, I’d love to hear your stories. For me, it’s stories which make the world go round, and I’ll leave he financial side of things to the economists.