Pfeifferhorn Portal

Oil on canvas, (15x30)

$1150 (framed)

Cirrus Clouds…
Like tresses of fine silk,
The highest of our common clouds—
The word ‘cirrus’ comes from the latin for lock of hair…
.
Fragile and fleeting,
Snow— That will never reach the ground.
These angelic wisps,
Are actually falling ice crystals.
.
And although the brilliant high-sky brushstrokes look static,
They are traveling over 100 mph, 
A distant high-speed dance, 
Untraceable by our human eyes.
.
And although cirrus clouds cannot produce rain or snow,
They are harbingers of change.
Whispers of warning.
That this beauty cannot last.
A storm is coming.
But until then,
I crane my neck and smile.