Yesterday I could have spent hours watching clouds. It was the very edges of a hurricane named Rosa. All we got were the clouds. That was good enough for me.

I drove to the gym despite the gloom. I turned off the radio. I opened the windows. I pulled off the road.

The smell was of clean air. The breeze was ever so light. But the clouds were whipping into layers of black and gray. The circular shape that they were trying to make was exquisite. The sun was trying to light their way from underneath. That gave a background glow of silver.

The clouds fascinated me.

The upper level winds finally blew a hole into the sky. It was so blue it took my breath away. I stayed there for quite awhile. Cars whipped by me but I was bound to those clouds. They dropped no rain; they lifted my heart.

Today we reaped the efforts of the clouds and the wind. Our deck is wet, the dog run has become a damp sand trap and, unfortunately for George and Gracie, no self-respecting would appear above ground.

They are depressed.

Yes, they are Cocker Spaniels. Yes, they are suppose to be water dogs.

Sorry, they hate water. Especially the stuff from the sky. I have tried to explain that the water from the sky is just like the stuff in their water bowl.

They don’t believe me.

To them it is just wet. They do not like wet.