I can’t quite say what it is about the clouds that capture my attention so completely. If I could fly, I don’t think I’d ever come down. I had never occurred to me the significance of the clouds and how much they meant to me personally.

Nance, if you love clouds so much you should fly more.

A friend of mine had recently made the observation with my fixation on the sky during a weekend away from the city. She would find me absentmindedly looking at the sky – a fact I hadn’t actually noticed myself.
Now that I think about it, for as long as I remember I’ve always loved heights. The signs around the lookouts that read ‘please don’t lean over the fence’ were specifically made for me. I had a habit of leaning over the barrier edges, propping myself up onto the railing so I could get a better look. I recall one time someone asked if I was going to jump. I believe if I truly felt I could fly I would have. Without a doubt if I had the assurance that I would catch the wind and fly there are countless times I would have jumped right off the edge. To fly amongst the clouds. To feel the wind rushing around me.

I’ve got my heavy heart to hold me down, once it falls apart my head’s in the clouds.

Clouds. Nothing more than water condensation you would say. But I guess you should never underestimate how something so seemingly insignificant can provide hope.