For decades, clouds meant my commute might become rainy. Ugly prospect.
Yesterday, I lay on my back for hours watching clouds on a bright blue sky, scudding across the horizon.
I was wrong. Judi was right. There are two sides. Clouds are beautiful, too.
This is the tiny cone of a lodge pole pine. The trees stand tall and straight in the woods of Wyoming. Until a forest fire snuffs out their lives. But intense heat is required for the cone to open, germinate, and begin a life cycle anew. No fire, no future.
Makes me realize how this can be a metaphor for our own human lives.