I realise that I take what I see in the skies as my hope, inspiration, meditation for the day.
The patterns of clouds, the colours, delicate shadings and gradations of hue all speak to me in some way, as I travel hither and thither through the week. I'd like to take more pictures of skyscapes, but I'm always busy, busy, busy and can't stop now.
On Thursday, the colour of the sky was the palest, most beautiful blue. The clouds arranged themselves in gentle billows, as though in a watercolour painting; careful shadings of dove grey shaded with pink stroked into a wet wash, the colours blending with utmost subtlety. I taught in two schools that day, one in the morning, one a good 45 minutes drive away in the afternoon. The lessons were bustling, active, with lots achieved in each session; djembe, and a year 5 and 6 class lesson on the intricacies of sonata form in the morning, ukulele and recorders in the afternoon. Then home through a golden dusk for piano teaching. A good day.
On Friday my daughter commented on the sky; a clean pale, slightly greenish blue topped by a knife edge layer of clouds as a weather front travelled across at high level. The beauty of the colours lifted my spirits as I braced myself for a long, hard day; exam rehearsals, recorders, samba, theory and piano lessons from 9:45 am until 6pm.
Yesterday was rain, rain, rain. Dark grey washed into pale grey washed into mid grey. The rain, and the clouds were persistent, but still not a uniform colour or texture.
Even the worst of the weather seems to come from a beautiful, subtle skyscape.