This just happened and I can’t resist sharing it.
Driving home from the market, my two-year-old grandtoddler, r, is behind me in his car-seat when I spot some cloud lips up ahead.
“Hey, r, check out the cloud lips in the sky!”
“Where, Gooma? Where?” he asks.
“Right up there! Follow my finger.”
“Oh! Cloud lips! There’s a mouth in the sky!” He cracks up, kicks his feet, throws his head back. Then he’s dead serious, looking at the miracle.
“Do you think the sky is singing to the birds, darling? Maybe a sandhill crane or a raven?”
We are at the end of the off ramp, at a red light, so I whip out my Cannon and have time to take only one shot. Suddenly, r is screaming. “A car’s in the way! A car’s in the way! I can’t see the cloud mouth!”
“I’ll pull forward a bit. There can you see it?”
“Silly cloud mouth,” he giggles. “How can a cloud have a mouth?” We laugh hysterically (his is real and I am faking it, trying to keep up with his bottomless glee).
“Oh, oh,” I say. “The cloud mouth just disappeared! It happened so fast, r.”
“Why did the cloud mouth disappear, Gooma? Where did it go?”
“Because of the wind, darling. The wind blew it into a flat cloud. Oh, well.”
“Why did the wind blow the mouth into a flat cloud, Gooma?” r is not distressed, only curious.
“Because that’s one of the wind’s jobs, baby. The cloud can be whatever shape the wind wants it to be. Like this.” I blow on my hand and change its shape. “See. Isn’t that cool!”
“Why does the wind do that Gooma? I don’t want the wind to blow the mouth away!”
“I don’t either, r. I’m so glad I took a picture with my camera. Do you want to see it later when we get home?”
“No, I want to go to the beach.” (He lives on a float pond.)
“Let’s go to the beach and see if we can find more clouds.”
“I want to find an airplane cloud!” r shrieks.
“I want to find a moose cloud!” I shriek.
“NO! I want to find a Gooma cloud!”