Yesterday, we were overrun by migrating stratocumulus clouds, the best clouds for us cloud-gazers. These low-flying, everchanging clumps of vaper allow us to imagine the sunny sky filled with stampeding bison, fast-flying bufflehead ducks, winged pigs, and countless other phantasmagoria.
Yesterday’s visitors also caused spots of sunlight to turn on and off on the slopes of Mount Cadillac in Acadia National Park across Blue Hill Bay – like a slow-blinking “Here-It-Is” sign.
Cloud myths apparently were among the first spiritual interpretations made by man. I like the ancient Greek myth about clouds being a crowd of mischievous nymphs who have collected water in opaque pitchers and will soon pour it on gawkers. Some Native Americans reportedly thought that the clouds were the discarded clothes of the gods.
(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 17, 2022.)