Up early and into the garage for a bag of birdseed for the resident ducks. A small hint of color behind the eastern trees marks the spot where dawn will eventually issue forth, but for now the road is dark, and the the silence is complete if you don't count robinsong and the soft chafe of the wooden door as I gently pull it shut behind me. Time for all the nocturnal raccoons and 'possums to hurry to their dens, time for the daytime squirrels to yawn and stir. Time for the dozing mallards to dream about coming for breakfast under the maple tree.
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.