Earth meets sky
5 October 03

The shadows cast by clouds on a hillside always delight me. But I’m not sure why.

It could be the surprise of ephemeral bodies made solid – clusters of mist not long for this world that trick us into viewing them as heavy and tangible as old trees and flesh. I love the glide of their darkness over high places – as near in magic to the flight of ghosts.

And each time I remember my first trip on a plane – the point when we first entered the clouds. Engulfed now, baby face squashed up against the cold plastic window, hungry scanning for harps and angels.