It never ceases to amaze me, how different the lake can look. It changes with all the usual larger rhythms - the seasons, day to day, hour to hour. But even moment to moment the light changes, clouds shift, precipitation sweeps across my view. We had a few stray flakes earlier this afternoon. Now it looks like all rain or snow is in Ohio. Which is it? I can't tell from here.
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.