How does one write an erotic story about clouds?
Seriously, I can’t do it. I have tried and tried and tried…this is now the fourth attempt. Simply put, I am exhausted from moving over the last week, and the ole’ brain is not quite kicking into gear on this one.
My first thought was to describe a goddess’ shape seen within the clouds and how it affects me…but nope, I did that with a blog about a snow bank some months back as I sat in my car viewing the Goddess of Winter.
Second idea was the clouds watching a couple rocking and rolling in the middle of a field…sent there, first by a lightning storm, but then unable to keep their hands from each other. Slight twist, but did this with thunder and lightning not all that long ago as we took a View of a Summer Storm.
What about a plane rocketing through the clouds as a couple has hot passionate sex in the cock pit…er, sorry…on the flight deck…oh fuck it, cock pit works and George Carlin would agree. Well, the infamous mile high club is hardly new.
I’m sorry…enough self promotion and on to the business at hand.
So what to do with clouds? There is nothing erotic about clouds.
Warm, moist air rises with the air currents, forming a mist of water vapour hiding the sun. They rise above, blocking the light before slowly lowering themselves onto us and rising again…they drop moist water onto us as they rise and fall, faster and harder…heavier and more violent as they get more excited and near their orgasm. Faster and harder, harder and faster…screaming with thunder and lightning scratching our back as we bring them their pleasure…
Damn…was not going to do that. Sorry.
I will speak, however, of the most beautiful experience I have ever had with clouds. A true story that was certainly a surreal, sensual and spiritual experience for me. Being I experienced it, I can still feel what this did to me…and I do hope my description below does it justice. Assuming you do not despise Pink Floyd, please press play and then read on…
Imagine this song playing as one sits at the window of an A320 aircraft…in this case, it was Air Canada having left Toronto four hours previous. Into the last hour of a flight and you can feel the plane beginning to descend. That feeling as the roller coaster descent sends one’s stomach lightly jumping. Still high enough they can serve drinks, but the end of the flight is nigh.
Clouds completely obscure your view as the sloth of an aircraft lowers. The clouds start to clear, first becoming a filter until they clear enough to see the tip of a single mountain at first. Then another. Then more yet. The aircraft drops to just under the cloud and is now riding just over the snowy peaks, feeling as though you could reach down and scoop up a snowball.
Just as breath is caught from this beautiful site, the eye is greeted with another shock as the ocean comes into view just ahead. The Pacific Ocean with it’s waves trying to reach those clouds that you just escaped from at the edge of these mountains.
The plane circles out over the Pacific just wide enough to give one long lasting look at the world’s most beautiful city. Vancouver, British Columbia under the clouds, beside the ocean and in front of the mountains.
The plane continues its turn before it lowers over the water and makes for the runway and takes the dreamy vision away for now.
The last time I made that flight was Easter Sunday in 2008.
Perhaps not a tale of eros, but a sensuality that cannot easily be explained.
Now, as a bit of cold water…once off the plane and on the streets of Vancouver, the first tune on the MP3 was Pretty Woman, the Van Halen version. If you know anything about Vancouver, you will understand just how appropriate this was.