The clouds have been parading through our little valley like the balloons in Macy's Thanksgiving parade. We are up high enough that clouds literally wander down the valley from time to time during rainy days such as this. Then they softly collide with the forested mountainsides and weave up through the trees as a hundred little apparitions, reform at the top, and sail on out towards the Great Plains.
Would that I could live my life with such grace and non-attachment.
Namaste.
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