Approaching the bus stop at the end of a fulfilling but grueling day, I was bringing up the last vestige of energy left in my tired feet. Although the afternoon was warm, the breeze was fairly strong; my eyes were following the rough, uneven asphalt while my hair blew intermittently in my face.
“Look at the sky!” my girlfriend exclaimed. “There’s a snow-covered mountain where wasn’t a mountain before! It’s like God is painting the mountains. It’s so beautiful!”
Earlier, we appreciated the multitude of clouds blowing in the vast sky; there were every kind and size and color imaginable.
As I responded with appreciative wonder to her observations, I remembered other glorious clouds and the exquisite colors each has shown. One summer day, for instance, when the sky was completely clear blue save for one very small white cloud low on the horizon; another time the glorious sunrise reflecting from the sky full of clouds. (TBA Jun 2014 Glorious Sunrises)
Though our feet were quite tired and we were longing to be home resting with our feet up (speaking of my own feet, mind you), we stopped to gaze at the spectacle in the sky before us. We stood for some time admiring the beauty in the painting of majestic snow-covered mountains in what we knew to be the sky, and we hurried to catch the bus to take us home. Our conversation turned us away from the beautiful sight, and when we looked again the delightful apparition had vanished.
We carried with us the memory of that magnificent peak and will be talking about mountains in the sky for a long time to come.