Watching

Nothing ever stays the same. Change is the norm: millisecond-to-millisecond. I am reminded of this while watching clouds as they parade over me as I sit on the stern of Carrie Rose, which was in slip 714 at the Gananoque Ontario Marina.

High and wispy, these distant clouds look like crystals. Along with regularly spaced scallop ones amorphous powder puffs are mixed in. This conglomeration slowly moves across the sky. I try to think of the proper names for them, but that is not in the cards right now. We are out of Wi-Fi range so I thankfully cannot get distracted with a web search, but while I contemplate this, the scallops and wisps dissolve into clear blue sky.

Off in the distance — beyond the St. Lawrence River — on the mainland of New York state fair weather cumulus predominate. They stately march far below the icy crystalline clouds I just spoke of. In the space between the above I notice a layer of thin widely spaced C-shaped clouds that look like strips of cotton candy pulled off the tall round mass just before it is popped into your mouth.

All three groupings of clouds move in different direction: Low: NE, Middle: W, and High: E. The winds that push them along alter their shapes, density and destiny.

Later in the day the entire picture changes as lines of dense rain and wind packed squalls scuttle in one after another. They etch black lines across the sky and announce their arrival with distance rumbles and lighting. The light and the sound arrived prior to the rain, white caps and gusty wind. With this I retreat into the confines of Carrie Rose’s salon.

The squalls are relentless and continue into the night. The temperature drops into the fifties and from my for once dreamless sleep, I surface just long enough to pull the down comforter over Charlotte and I.

Watching clouds, scalloped and high —
Their ice crystals
Chill these old bones.

From Seeley's Bay on the Rideau Waterway in Ontario