When I walked into our kitchen this morning and looked out the window, my heart filled with joy – the sky looked like a Wyoming sky, clear blue with fat, fluffy white clouds moving past in a hurry. There was a clarity to the blue, something we rarely see here in Sacramento in August. I went out and stood, squinting up, and watched this glorious march of clouds heading east – there was an upper layer of gauzy white that just floated past above the other clouds, skimming along like sheets of ice. Off to the east, the sun illuminated the bank of clouds and I almost felt I was staring into a snow cave – brilliant and clear and stunning.
This is rare weather here in August and it is indeed a gift from God. I stood and stared until I was nearly blinded by the light and I said a prayer for such a glorious morning and for my Wyoming sky.
