Yesterday, I seemed to be under a giant cloud, with lots up in the air.

A difficult ghostwriting deadline for an article about clouds loomed, but the Tortoise Cat signaled we were overdue for a territorial stroll. As late afternoon blew in and we set off down the block, those metaphors took shape.

This towering cumulonimbus looked to me like a giant ghost storming away into the west. But, of course, the cloud was riding the prevailing westerlies eastward, billowing towards us briskly.


Photo: Towering cumulonimbus, neighborhood tower and maple tree, one late afternoon in early August 2010, by Shamanic-Shift on Flickr.com

The prodigious puff hung over our heads impressively, then spit out only a few refreshing, salutary sprinkles in passing.