Flying over this land, you notice that the clouds have no shadows. Oh, there are clouds in the sky, and a sun above them, and shadows on the earth below; but the shadows are not the shadows of these clouds. Their shapes are unrelated; they occur in different places. On some patches of ground, the sun beats down unobstructed, yet there are cloud-shadows; in other places, there are no shadows, though clouds mill about above.
Clearly, the shadows are the fossil remains of ancient clouds, preserved from some distant past when the countryside was still unfinished and even such a compound insubstantiality as the shadow of a cloud could shape it.
Now the landscape is fully-formed, and modern clouds have lost all ability to press their shadows on it. This is good -- otherwise, the whole land would be permanently dark by now. There have been so many clouds.
Copyright 1994 Edward Gaillard. All rights reserved.