Cumulus humilus

I’ve mentioned previously on WordPress how much the sky interests me, from watching storms roll in to gazing at the star-filled night– and I’ve shared more cloud-centric poetry. The fact that people have taken time to name so many different types of clouds is interesting as well. Cumulus humilis are called “fair weather cumulus”. I like to think of them as “comfort clouds”, and they’re the sort I managed to capture in the above photo, which I took in the backyard of Amish Walmart this weekend.

If you did a double-take at the phrase “Amish Walmart”, you’re in good company. I also didn’t know such a thing existed until Saturday. I spent the weekend with my best friend from college and some of her family and friends in the countryside a few hours from where I live. It was technically my college friend’s bachelorette party, though it was the most low-key one ever, which was absolutely fitting for her personality. It was perfect. We went golfing and played yard games and spent time chatting and relaxing. Her family that we stayed with lives in a rural area where many Amish families live, and we explored a few bakeries and other shops run by local Amish people, including this place where they have a little bit of everything. The prices, quality, and atmosphere were all preferable to its namesake, though I’ll admit the organization was slightly less structured and some items were slightly more rusty.

We witnessed an intense storm on Friday night that uprooted a few nearby trees, but Saturday was a perfect day with a partly cloudy cerulean sky. It’s kind of special how nature reflects your mood at times. I’d been feeling down lately– about Bluebird’s loss and also about some frustrating health stuff and some discouraging publishing news. That wicked storm must have felt like I did last week; it bickered in the sky and switched from rapidly northwest-bound to heading directly for us with 80MPH winds.

Only minutes later, everything at nature was oddly at peace (well, except for those damaged trees, I suppose), and I started spying the silver lining in everything that had me feeling defeated. I don’t think I’ll ever be the sort of person who just takes disappointment and heartache in stride, but I know I have the ability to look at things from another perspective or to simply feel grateful for whatever other things happen to be going well. Sometimes we tally up the good and bad and we seem to have the short end of the stick, but experience has shown me that how we interpret and react to the facts is more important than the facts themselves. I don’t think it takes everyone a visit to the Amish Walmart to make this revelation. But I’m sure nature and a little time with special friends can put most discouragement to rest.