Some days the clouds pile up thick as down comforters, deep as unfallen
snow. The earth hushes beneath their weight; the wind rushes in whispers. Last
night it rained, a real rain, for the first time in more than a month. Just
after dawn the sky cleared, then clouded again — not storm clouds but a pale winter
deepening, calling in the solstice.
William Stafford wrote about this sky:
“Many things in the world have
already happened. You can
go back and tell about them.
They are part of what we
own as we speed along
through the white sky.
“But many things in the world
haven't yet happened. You help
them by thinking and writing and acting.
Where they begin, you greet them
or stop them. You come along
and sustain the new things.”
—William Stafford, In the White Sky
This is the weather of manifestation. Anything you can think of might be
there behind the cloudbank, white against the trees. Close your eyes and look
for it. Let regrets fade into the sky. Create your heart’s delight; choose a
life that brings joy.
We are all here, in this moment, in this sky.
