I tooks these photos a few years ago when I was still living on the acreage in the Alberta foothills. My place was 10 ½ acres mostly in poplar and spruce woods, with some native short grass pastures that had never been turned. It was on a hill overlooking an unpopulated valley, with the mountain peaks just beyond. I had my own well and a pump down by the barn; you can see it in the first photo. One hot spring day I after I’d filled the stock tank, I just stood for a moment and let the cool water run over my hands. For a moment I had a kind of epiphany, envisioning the flow of rain, racing down the mountains, soaking into the land, filling the underground aquifer beneath my feet, rising up through the pump, and finally the water traveling across my skin before splashing back down onto the dry earth. Later that day, I saw what I call heliospouts (officially, crespuscular rays). When I was a kid we used to say it was the "sun drawing water" as if the rays were huge straws that the sun used to take up the moisture from the land, in order to have it fall again as rain. And I remembered the feel of the cool water on my hands, and I felt that for a moment I had been just as much a part of the water cycle as the grass and the rain and the rocks.
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.