We walked into town to find a place to grab breakfast. The sky held a menageriof clouds dark-brooding, soft white puffy, and ghostly fragments, drifting across a blue sky with the morning sun setting it aglow. As we walked, I stared at the spectacle. Not rare in any way, I thought, but maintaining a distinction of its own. I found myself gaping in wonder like it was a piece of magnificent, moving art, forever changing, dramatic and grand in composition, owning the temporary like a Tibetan mandala or a sandcastle to be swept away, its beauty amplified by its ephemeral nature. Its brilliance drenched the moment in appreciation.