Last week I traversed the sidewalks in my neighborhood channeling my inner Jimmy Olsen (the photographer who accompanied Clark Kent, AKA Superman, on his fact-finding missions). The camera I wore around my neck clunked and swung back and forth against my belly button because I haven’t bothered to figure out how to shorten the straps. I want to get into the habit of taking my camera everywhere with me — mostly because I always seem to find things I want to capture on those days that I don’t have it with me. Sigh.
My husband was at a boy’s night out, so it was just me, my camera, and the mosquitoes. I had a brief thought that someone from the Neighborhood Watch might find it suspicious to see a woman roaming the sidewalks aiming a camera at dusk at everyone’s houses, so I made sure to aim my camera higher. Much higher.
The Lord did not disappoint — the skies that evening were full of glory. See the wispy texture of the anvil-shaped cloud? The mass of water droplets held together by electrical charges called to my mind the super-soft down pillow on my daughter’s bed. If I was a child I would dream of sprouting wings and flying off into the center of that billowy softness, feeling it cushion and cradle my skin.
Last year we got ourselves a sleep number bed. My sweet husband bought it for me as a comfort to my fibromyalgia despite his misgivings that the whole setup is nothing more than a glorified air bed. I will say that this bed is heavenly. My “sleep number” hovers around 10 or 15. Out of 100, if that tells you anything about how soft I like it to be. There’s actually a hollow in the mattress where I nest every night. The mattress cradles me in the same way that I think that cloud would feel, if it had substance.
Here the anvil shape is more readily seen as is the deep purple cloud drifting across the way. The whisper thin fluff coming off the top reminds me of the fur that curls up on my Havaton’s back. (Havaton — a cross breed of Coton and Havanese).
By this time the sun began setting in earnest, quite possibly setting the expanse on fire with beauty and glory:
I reveled in the higher aim of my camera, capturing flaming beauty stretching out as far as my eyes could see,
singing the birds and the bunnies — and later, me, to sweet sleep.
One thought on “Aiming Higher”
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