Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Clouds

Posted on April 22, 2015 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

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There is nothing I like photographing better than clouds. Clouds can create such a variety of emotions, give a feeling of portent, bring other images to mind. Look can you see the little dog, the heart, that map of Australia. Don’t look for these in my featured clouds but rather in the sky at your own clouds.

I once attended a hypnotherapist after a traumatic period in my life. He put me on my own cloud and I have to admit I would have been more than happy snuggling up in its white fluffiness for the rest of time — at that time anyway. I suffer from an overwhelming urge to jump out of a plane into those white snowy mountains of cloud that you see from the plane window.

Percy Bysshe Shelley describes the cloud perfectly in his poem:

The Cloud

 I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
         From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
         In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
         The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
         As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
         And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
         And laugh as I pass in thunder.
   I sift the snow on the mountains below,
         And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night ’tis my pillow white,
         While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
         Lightning my pilot sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
         It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
         This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
         In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
         Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
         The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,
         Whilst he is dissolving in rains.
   The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
         And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
         When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
         Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
         In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
         Its ardours of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
         From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest,
         As still as a brooding dove.
   That orbèd maiden with white fire laden,
         Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,
         By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
         Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,
         The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
         Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
         Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
         Are each paved with the moon and these.
   I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,
         And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
         When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
         Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,
         The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
         With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
         Is the million-coloured bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,
         While the moist Earth was laughing below.
   I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
         And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
         I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
         The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
         Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
         And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
         I arise and unbuild it again.
© irene waters 2015

© irene waters 2015

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
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21 Responses to Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Clouds

  2. andy1076 says:
    April 22, 2015 at 8:59 am

    One of the shots over the river, Looks like the shape of a swan 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  3. Charli Mills says:
    April 22, 2015 at 10:49 am

    I’m with you on liking the clouds! Isn’t it amazing that something so common can be so spectacular? I never tire of sunrises, sunsets or clouds.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  4. sustainabilitea says:
    April 22, 2015 at 2:18 pm

    Wonderful gallery of cloud shots, Irene, and the perfect poetic accompaniment.

    janet

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  5. Cee Neuner says:
    April 23, 2015 at 2:47 am

    Irene, you have some marvelous cloud photos. Was that a blimp I saw in one of your photos? Great entry.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  6. Pingback: Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Clouds | decocraftsdigicrafts

  7. Raewyn's Photos says:
    April 23, 2015 at 5:58 am

    Great photos. Love clouds too.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  8. Sharon Bonin-Pratt says:
    April 24, 2015 at 9:43 am

    Your photos are yummy. I also love clouds. Here in Southern California we often see only bland gray-blue skies with nothing interesting to break up such anemic expanse unless a bird wings through. The best views of clouds, when they show their puffy heads around here, are always from freeways. As I’m driving, I find myself wishing I could stop right in the middle of a busy lane and set up my easel to paint. One day, I’m going to paint a whole portfolio of clouds. Stroke, stroke, dab. One day…

    Liked by 1 person

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