Clouds and Day Dreams

My very first book that I remember owning, was bought just for me, instead of the usual books that were for both my sister and I, and it was titled Isabelle and The Pink Teddy Bears. I still own the book.

It is a large, hard covered book with an enchanting picture on the front of a little girl in a dreamy night gown with a handsome Pink Teddy in a tux on her arm. They are stepping gingerly onto a huge, fluffy, white cloud that the Pink Teddy uses as a mode of transportation.

I couldn’t read the book myself when my Dad bought it, but before long I had memorised the words and pretended to read them for anyone that would listen. I was 4 years old and I think this is where my fascination with fluffy, white clouds began.

Later on when I was in elementary school, I was often scolded by the teacher for day dreaming rather than listening to the lesson that was being taught. I could stare straight ahead but be miles away in seconds. Usually it was the clouds floating slowly past the window that would catch my eye.

They still make me stare. I can’t help it. I caught myself staring out the side window at the monstrous wonders on my way home from work last night and I was kicking myself that I didn’t have my camera with me. They were fabulous specimens. The kind that demand more than a mere glance. These were the ones that were worthy of a full uninterrupted, staring session.

If I were still a child, I would have succumbed to that thought and plopped down on the grass somewhere to stare and dream at the clouds floating above. Unfortunately, I’m not a child, but a busy adult racing somewhere important in her car, with little time for such frivolous ideas.

I miss being a child.