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The clouds in the sky have been extraordinary this summer.

Cotton balls stretched so thin in the morning that you can barely see their mass drifting weightlessly across the cantaloupe sky.


Breaking into hot sun sweat they hide away the mid-morning absorbed by the cobalt ozone. Sticking to the roof of our world.



By noon, they start to reappear on the horizon, north, east, west and south. Surrounding my town with a stealth-like approach.

Bombers in the distance.

And the air buzzes with electricity as they grow in the afternoon, morphing into picture stories.

Depicting the thunder heads of society.

Drenching the evening with the rain of change, however toxic.

At night you can still see them swirling round the moon, never stopping, not even for a moment…