Clouds

What an amazing day it was for cloud watching .... with temperatures close to the thirties, very dry and hot conditions on the ground, it was a different kettle of fish up in the air ....

The last stanza of The Cloud by PB Shelley:

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.