Cloud Watching in Mongolia

I am looking out at the Mongolian sky -

and it is a gray day. The first day long gray day we have had here on our scouting tour.

And I am looking up at the sky, towards the lowering sun, 4:30 pm, reminiscent of the look of November clouds in the great midwest I grew up with and know most intimately.

And high above us, a pterodactyl cloud, looking fierce as it floats free, claws outstretched, ready to take down prey.

And I think back in the time of my life, to a more benign cloud formation I remember when I was 10 years old or so.

While I was playing in my room, outside were two poodle clouds sitting side by side. Puffy pinkening hairdos tinted by the lowering sun, perfectly posed, looking down at earth from the great height of the sky.

So perfect, that my dad, the cloud spotter, came into the house to round us all up.
Mom, my brother and I.

And we stood outside in the backyard, by the bare honey locust trees in the cool early spring.
Looking up in awe at the perfection of it.

'Its to bad, we don't have film in the camera," my dad remarked before heading back into the house to resume what he was doing.

And then my mom left, and then my brother, and then it was just me looking up.

Marveling at my dad's generosity in sharing this moment with us. Staring up at these perfect clouds, this once in a lifetime chance, and in recognizing the truth of that, I made the decision to remember every fluffy curve, every perfect detail of the etheric poodles and the wonder of my dad's sharing with us all this moment in time.

I send love to the sky, to the pterodactyl cloud that has now morphed into a wolf's head as I watch it here, in Mongolia.

And most of all, I send love to my dad.



Cloud Mongolia.jpg
Scott Parker