The race was on. Wild winds zipped across the sky overhead. Taking a final sip of lukewarm coffee, I moved up the trail with uncertainty. The world was grey. Despondent evergreens huddled close to each other. Feeling the cold bite of competitive winds, I gave a nod to their sullen dispositions.
What would sunrise bring? Was it worth it? The second answer was easy; it was always worth it. The first question was still uncertain.
Arriving at the overlook, soft lines of purple painted fine detail across the sky. Racing clouds of varying size remained moody speckles high in the atmosphere. The sun remained tucked away, uninterested in the business of cirrus and cumulus conversations…
I looked on, fascinated.
"You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds."