Super cloudy, but at least a variegated sky. I can see actual clouds, moving shapes – drifting, really; drifting very slowly across the sky. Now that I think about it, I have to say there’s something odd in how they move, for I think I only ever see clouds moving across, whether left to right as now or vice versa. I don’t recall seeing clouds going the opposite way, that is, perpendicular to the “across” (left-right) movement I’m looking at right now. I don’t see clouds running, like great gray lemmings, down into the sea, or leaping, like cloud dolphins, up from the sea and over my own uptilted head, eyes fixed on the sky above.
Why is that? Do I just not recall a sight as dramatic as great gray lemmings or leaping dolphins, or is up-down a meteorological impossibility in an across, therefore left<–>right (or vice versa), world? Has the sky taken on the quality of text?
Maybe I have seen clouds quelling up near the horizon, but it seems that once they get closer to my part of the visual field, they’re turned into text – and typically do move left to right. If I turned around and looked out the living room window, they ought to be traveling right to left, directionally speaking with me as a reference point. Right? If I visited Israel (where they write right to left), would the clouds’ direction be suddenly reversed, too? (Does Israel have clouds, or is it perpetually sunny there?) Would their lofty and mammoth trade route, which exchanges air and water, heat and cold in an endless barter that affects us down below, conform? I doubt it.
It rained during the night. I don’t see the writing on the ground, though.