Double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.
This excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth was going through my mind this evening as I watched layers of charcoal colored clouds churn across the sky.
Breaks in the clouds were few, but where the clouds thinned seven or eight beams of sunlight stabbed down to the ground.
So defined were those columns of light they might have been solid. I could envision an army of angles and other heavenly beings riding the bright slides to earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment