Clouds: Anima mea exsultabit in Domino...

One of my favourite parts of the day (and I have many) is my walk home from work. Sure, my feet are tired, my blood contains too much caffeine for its own good, and I likely reek of coffee (let’s be honest though, there are much worse things to smell like), but I quite enjoy the experience. It usually takes me forty-five minutes (or more) to stroll the distance (what ought to be a half-hour walk) while reading my book and letting my mind and attention drift between paragraphs. Often my eyes are draw upward, towards the sky above. And oh, what a sight to behold!

Joni Mitchell has this great little song called “Both Sides Now” where she uses clouds as a metaphor for life. I enjoy this song, perhaps partially because, like life, clouds fascinate me: I find them to be mysterious and transcendent (it’s as though they belong to another realm and have snuck into ours).

“Rows and flows of angel hair,
And ice cream castles in the air,
And feather canyons everywhere,
I’ve looked at clouds that way.
…
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow,
Its cloud illusions I recall,
I really don’t know clouds at all.”


There are clouds that look like wool, cotton, or even sandpaper. There are dark foreboding clouds, and light cheery ones that bring an involuntary smile to the face. There are clouds that look like the rolling sea crashing against a rugged BC coastline; and there are clouds that look like the endless rippled sand at low tide. Not only are there different clouds, but also they can often all be found in the same sky. Look to the West and the sight is so much different than to the East. I remember hearing an old Native proverb about not being able to cross the same river twice. I think this is equally true for the sky. Every glance above yields a different sky with different clouds. Every time I look-up at them I am amazed how transitory, how ephemeral the scene truly is. Was it placed there just for that exact moment that I should look up? Was I the only person to see that sky, those clouds?

Most of all, I desire those rare clouds experiences, the ones that overwhelm me till I tremble at my very core. There are the rare moments where the parting of the clouds is witnessed. A tiny hole appears and begins to grow. At first there are little rays of light peeking through, but as it grows the floodgates of light are let loose and the clouds roll back to reveal the full power and glory of that great luminous orb. Just as it all begins, a sense of awe, wonder and fear overtake the heart. The blood courses rapidly through the veins and the lungs hold still for barely a heartbeat. The ears strain in expectant anticipation for the sound of trumpets and the angelic hosts singing their heavenly song of praise. It also only takes a second for the mind to realize that no, this is not the eschaton. The effect seems no less dramatic for the absence.

I know that clouds are functional; of course they are an intrinsic part of the earth’s water cycle, the cycle that sustains all human life. Yes, they have that function. But allow me to suggest that perhaps they have another function or purpose: the elevation of my soul. Big groups of water vapor gathering and moving about above… yes, I understand this. But what if they are also the strokes of a divine paintbrush - the clear blue canvas providing a creative outlet for the imaginative work that is meant to draw our eyes upward, towards the heavens themselves. What if these blends of colours and shades are intended for easing my weary mind, for soothing my soul, for warming my heart. What if clouds are visual love sonnets, sung to remind me that my troubles are small when compared to the overflowing love that calls out to me daily.

Like Joni before me, I don’t understand clouds. Perhaps the point of clouds, like life, is not necessarily to understand them, though we still seek to do so, but instead to experience them.

When I look heavenward and behold the glorious sight that is laid out across the vast expanse, I let it lift my soul…

…perhaps that is what it was placed there for.