Flying in clouds

Today I think I need to step away for a bit away from the deeply tragic events going on in our nation right now, and talk about something more innocent.

flying_in_clouds

Yesterday, as I was flying over the U.S., I looked out my window and realized we were inside a cloud. And it brought me back to my childhood.

When I was a little kid, I used to look up into the sky and wonder what it might be like to be inside a cloud. Would it be like walking on a ball of fluffy cotton? Strolling through a field of cotton candy?

Would I find that there were people living in the cloud? If so, would I get along with the cloud people?

Now that I am a grown-up, I can fly through clouds any time I want. But the problem is I now know too much.

I no longer expect to walk through fields of cotton candy. I know I will never get to hang out with the cloud people.

And it makes me sad, because the child version of me still holds on to those visions. Yet the grown-up version knows they are not true.

But also that they should be.

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