Sunday, March 5, 2023

A Movement of Clouds


Partly Cloudy Skies, Grandview Park, March 5, 2023

I don't know if I'd been dreaming, but I woke up thinking life is like getting a block of stone when we're born, and we spend our lives learning how to sculpt it. Some people seem to be born with an internal vision of what their final shape should be, although surprises sometimes live even in stone. Other people chisel first one form, then another and another, and later in life, there's very little stone left to work, and their shape becomes a sphere around which passing clouds sail and billow on the wind.

Once again this morning I drove over to Grandview Park on the chance of catching a rainbow, and this time my disappointment was realizing it was too early in the morning for the bow to be in the right position (arcing over Mt. Tamalpais). But since I was already there, and my coffee had no doubt already cooled back on my desk at home, I set up the camera for a timelapse and waited to experience whatever nature had on offer. 

Although the cloud action was mainly over the Marin Headlands, a line of clouds formed up in the west with the promise of a good rainbow angle. I changed lenses and pointed the camera toward them, keeping my camera bag ready for a quick exit from the swiftly approaching rain. The clouds blew in from the ocean and darkened the western edge of the city, casting a giant shadow that moved toward me like a solar eclipse

There would have been a great rainbow -- if only the clouds had been showering. Drat. No rain fell, but the temperature dropped precipitously as soon as the shadow fell upon me, so I packed up my gear and headed home for breakfast as the clouds continued their eastward journey.

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