Tonight, in just a few minutes, Eastern Daylight Time, New Yorkers will experience the celestial phenomenon known as "Manhattanhenge" (Manhattan + henge, as in Stonehenge). It's one of the two evenings every year that the setting sun lines up in just the right place to illuminate all the cross streets. Such a radiant alignment in the heart of one of the world's most secular cities makes you feel sorry for future archaeologists, who will undoubtedly write books about how very mystical and spiritual the people in those huge temples were back then.
There's also something of a counterpart on the West Coast, known as Goldengatehenge but it doesn't sound quite as dramatic as New York.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.