Scattered and Cloudy: JusJoJan Day 6

Welcome to Day Six of Just Jot it January, where, for a month – well, we jot. Whatever. However. Wherever. Whyever. It’s graciously hosted by Linda G.Hill.

Today’s prompt, “Clouds”, comes to us from Geoff Le Pard at TanGental, who’d love a visit! Pop on over and say hi, if you’re so inclined.


When I told my daughter that today’s word was “cloud’, she said, “What are you going to write about him?”

To her, this is what -or rather whom – Cloud means.

I, on the other hand, thought of the clouds she asked me to cut out of paper last week, so that she could write inspirational phrases on them, and hang them, along with moons and hearts, from her ceiling. Now she has a swinging array of thread-secured pretties.

OK, perhaps it’s just coincidental, but I’m listening to “Welcome to Night Vale”, and a fictitious and unknown Emily Bronte novel was just listed – The Flippancy of Clouds. Reminds me of The Importance of Being Earnest.

Sunset at the South Jetty, Florence, Oregon, circa 2000.


I also thought of pictures I’ve taken of clouds, and of the Simon and Garfunkel song, “Cloudy”, and this poem that I wrote on October 1, 2015, for OctPoWriMo Day One:

October clouds over the New York State Museum, Albany, NY, circa 2014.

Full Moon Clouds

We step out the door,

My girl and I

for our nightly walk.

Full moon night

After an eclipse

And a skyful of clouds.

The silver moon

Glows like a nightlight

Seen behind frosted glass.

We walk and talk

My girl and I

Illuminating spirits.

We sit in the front yard.

In our camp chairs

And watch the clouds.

“They look like snow

When the wind’s blown it

Into little hills and valleys.”

“Or the surface of a brain

If you flattened it out

And it was white, not grey.”

It’s about more than clouds

This time that we share

More than full moons and walks.

It’s about connection

Little moments holding hands

And sharing secrets.

She’s growing up fast

This girl of eleven

Will soon be a woman.

She’ll live her life grown

On her own terms

With clouds we don’t share.

Our walks will be memories

These hand in hand times

Sharing secrets beneath cloud blankets.

What we’re weaving tonight

While clouds roll above

Is the fabric of her future self.

Lone Star Geyser with rainbow, near Old Faithful, Yellowstone National Park, circa 1998-9?

Well, these thoughts are scattered, cloudy…like a song, or pictures, or a dusky-white wild stallion, or pages culled from last year’s dictionary, snipped and shaped and hung from the ceiling of an girl nearly eleven and a half years old…

And that’s all the cloudiness my nocturnal and wearily cloudy mind has to say about that…find more jottings here!

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