Clouds and the Images we can See in Them

A thunderstorm was brewing behind the craggy outcrop of rocks, this was when I experienced my favourite memory, it was the best cloud shape that I had seen, and wonder if I would see something so spectacular or similar again.

This occurred, several years ago, and was a very valuable lesson for me, namely to make sure that I always carry an extra spare battery and smart card for my digital cameras. It was a late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set, our sunsets, because of the distance from tropics tend to have a longish twilight filled with reds, yellows and gold afterglows especially noticeable when clouds are about.

It was on the beach in a place called Sedgefield, a quiet coastal town situated on the Eastern Cape coast of Southern Africa. The beach was at the edge of a lagoon that had one craggy arm extending into the cold grey ocean, the other arm curled lazily around and formed a pleasant beach with lots of rocks outcrops and a largish sand beach to sunbath on. The sun was beginning to set, and the twilight period had not yet started.

The sun was masked behind swirling mass of clouds, which varied from pale grey through to that heavy malevolent grey, this bank of cloud had been blown in from the ocean They were then being swirled around lazily by air turbulence, as they are wont to do. These clouds were not a solid bank as I first thought but several layers at different distances apart, and every now and then wisps of the pale blue would be visible.

The cloud bank had now extended across a good deal of the horizon, as the storm was moving in, it was time to head back. As I started to pack my odds and ends, slipped on my jacket and proceeded to start up the steps that led to the parking area. I had just slipped my camera with its flat battery, and as luck would have it, no spare, when I happened to look across the lagoon and there it was.

The craggy rocks across the stretch of the river of the lagoon, were now a pitch black, the silhouette, that was highlighted with a burning bright golden edge, and halfway down the length of this golden craggy outcrop there rose up from the rocks an immense dark ominous form that one would have thought this seascape was indeed painted by the likes of Salvador Dali. Though this greatness was one painted by nature, in all her glory.

This is the vision that appeared before my eyes, frustrated as I was unable to capture the vista digitally. This would have made an excellent mural. It was a mixture of one of those mythical creatures that had a bright pulsing red heart, which seemed to throb as the clouds moved, an immense body rose up with what appeared to be, wide outstretched wings twisted in flight as it seemed to launch itself from the inky outcrop of black rock.

A veritable phoenix rising or mythical medieval dragon, etched and outlined in parts with colours that ranged from pinkish red to glowing gold, the wind shifted and the creature seemed to turn and twist, its malevolent red heart stopped its glowing and the inky blackness slowly enfolded entire vista, bolts off lightning flashed streaking across the sky striking the sea, and from cloud to cloud, this awesome pyrotechnic display finally put an end to that image of that wondrous mythical beast, was it now finally slain?

I was left standing there in absolute silence awed by the beauty of that imagery which I had witnessed.

Left only with those memories and the feeling of how small we are.