During Houston’s dog days of summer, we’ve an excess of warm (read scorching) air at ground level. And when warm air rises, it carries water vapor. Should southwestern air, soft-spoken and laid back, encounter cold and sometimes rude Yankee air, water vapor is chilled. Condensation occurs and voila – cumulus clouds are born.
With due respect to grade school science, I’ve a different notion of those billowing white clouds. Envision, if you will, novice angels, newly departed souls, watching from within that ethereal fluff. Each keeps a careful eye on the recently bereaved – sending a cool breeze, the newly-opened rose, tiny sparrows, the prolonged green traffic light. Happiness.
We survivors, meanwhile, lack focus. Distracted by ongoing sorrow, we misplace car keys and cell phones and grocery lists. We’ve forgotten the deceased is blissful, finally free of earthly woes, and eager to guide us through our piercing pain.
As our loved ones gaze from above, we find the absent car key and Smartphone; recall the needed grocery items; feel alert. And then, with help from more seasoned angles, clouds part and shafts of sunlight angle toward earth. Think: Variation of Michelangelo’s “Finger of God.” Surprisingly, our mood quickens and comforting thoughts of the deceased tiptoe in.
Once our mood brightens, the trainee angels move on, leaving room for more recently departed souls. These new cherubs are equally joyful, sans human trials, and waste no time in soothing their respective mourners. And so it goes.
The blue sky dotted with billowing cumulus clouds is uplifting. Streaming sunlight, sent from a precious departed soul, is breathtaking.
Think about it.