A low-set belt of dense darkness strode across the skies, tossing and swivelling in the brisk breeze. The subtle pink sunrise was of little consequence to its progress as it focused on its goal, but a small faction shivered and had an inspirational thought: it would take another route so that it could feel at least some of the warmth and admire the wintry hues. Breaking away from the main wind funnel was pretty tough - it may be cold but sailing along with the masses meant relatively little legwork! Still, it was worth it as the new leg of cloud kicked up into the blue and basked in the winter light, finding like-minded others to share the space with.
Sometimes a moment is created that means that all the passive onlookers just have to cast their blinkered reservations aside and join in. Voluminous pinks streak across the sky and force the grey sceptics (clustered and muttering with their morning tea) to contemplate a more colourful existence. The warmth of the sun makes them shrug off their weighty grey exteriors and reveal an altogether more lively and complimentary persona - indigo hues giving sensual curves to the soft salmon bellies of the sunrise.
Morning sunlight stealthily picks its way across the sleepy bales. They stir and push each other forward, hoping to catch a few last slow minutes of lolling slumber. Warmth begins to spread through them, striking one cloud that is first in line. She glows bashfully, then deeply blushes, embarrassed that she's been singled out. I wonder if she ever realised her beauty before the wind picked up and fog descended.
The mood of the masses is heavy and brooding, everything and everyone is jostling in the same crowded layer. Waiting and wondering, ebbing and flowing with the tide as the wind gusts and slows across the bay. Each surge of air bringing the threat of an outburst and downpour.
It is clustered and claustrophobic in that space, no room for a full breath or for dreams to be dreamt and brought to actuality. A few limber up and loosen their joints, annoying their neighbours but needing the movement. They've spotted the brilliant blue space above them and decide to expand into the sparsely populated vastness. It takes courage, they could just stay with the grumbling hubbub where freedom is a pipedream and original thought is initially welcomed but curtailed when change is broached.
So they gird their loins and break free, feeling their own beauty and movement in their ascent, the light accentuating and caressing shapes they never knew they had.
The sun was reluctant to sink around the planet as it fired up streaks of orange into the grey-blue haze. Feverish wisps sought (and succeeded!) to break up the sky-gatherings and inject breeze-fuelled tempestuousness as they waved goodbye to the day. The dusky clouds settled again after the hot-blooded physical disturbance - never the same though as they struggled to remember and reassemble their dishevelled appearance and outlook they had thought was concrete and settled for the night.
Maybe they made new acquaintances to dance with as the moon rose, maybe they grieved for partners lost. Change is inevitable no matter how beautifully formed one's current existence.