I apologize in advance for my over-fascination with clouds. And the sky. And looking up.
I don’t really believe in a “heaven” per say, but I DO tend to talk to those that have passed during sunsets while staring in awe at the always perfectly imperfect sky.
This particular evening the boiling white cotton was a harbinger of an approaching summer cool front. Taking oppressive humidity and absorbing it within, before floating on.
I felt that I could almost reach out, then run into this playground of soft fluff.