Clouds Dancing

Every once in a while, I need to be in Mountain View for work. The drive is generally around sixty-plus miles and two hours. Today was our company kick-off. We are doing some amazing things, and I was really excited to meet new faces and for everyone to get together. 

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge like I do most days when I’m in the Bay, the sunrise this morning, more than usual, was particularly yellow and orange, two of my favourite colours, which happens to be fortuitous since they have become a daily greeting. I typically drive with my moonroof open, sometimes all the windows down while crossing the bridge. The crisp air is always a welcome start to the day. After paying the toll, driving through the Presidio and onto 19th Street, it took almost an hour alone just to drive the ten miles onto I-280.

By the time I had passed the exit for the 101, the fog was descending thick and heavy upon the commuters. Just off Canada Road, I saw something I’d never seen before.

Clouds dancing on the water. Everybody cut loose. Footloose.

To my right, the Upper Crystal Springs Reservoir sat still, a mirror reflecting the trees opposite the highway and the sky above it. Like an Irish lilt, the clouds quietly danced on the water. Varying degrees of grey, blue, slate, white hues formed a spectacle for us to see. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own four eyes. There was a tree, standing tall and proud, alone apart from the clique, though all of them were staring in the direction that I glanced. 

I wanted to stop, but I had a kick-off to get to. It wouldn’t be long before we would all be dancing too.

Like the clouds.

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