It’s been a while since I’ve last seen clouds move.
And it’s not because clouds don’t pass by the metro anymore. Or that they’ve just mysteriously stopped moving. They still do. Every single day. But the tall buildings block them from view. And the smog just literally hides them in plain sight.
But most of the time they’re just there, idly passing along above our heads like it’s their sole purpose in life (come to think of it…). And I don’t see them, not because they’re not there, but because I don’t take the time to look. And I couldn’t look because I’m always on the move. This industry I’m in is so fast-paced that if you catch yourself sitting idly by, you’d miss the next big thing. Cloud-gazing is on the bottom of my priority list, and it’s a long list, I tell you.
The thing is, you can’t see clouds move if you yourself are always on the move. If I’m headed north and the clouds are also headed north, the clouds look as if they’re sitting perfectly still. If in the oft chance that the clouds and I move in different directions, I barely have the time to gaze and actually see them go about their ways.
Several days ago I saw clouds moving again. It was on a trip to Baguio. An eight-hour road trip, to be exact. Aside from catching up on sleep, checking out tweets or playing games on the iPad, there’s really so much you can do while waiting to arrive at your destination.
And so I watched the clouds. And I saw them move. Not only that, I tried again that childhood fare of making out figures from clouds. I saw a pig. And then the usual mushrooms. And I could’ve sworn I also saw a human face up there.
It was as if it was my first time to see clouds all over again.
If I’d be given a chance, I’d choose to lay down on the grass on a blisfully sunny day and just watch clouds pass by overhead, pointing at them like the child that I was, watching heaven’s show change from one performance to the next right before my eyes.
And we all know by now I’m not just talking about clouds.
