Floating lazily through the cerulean sky were several clouds. To associate one with a sole object would be a great injustice, for each one was an array of shapes.

The first one that caught my eye was roaming through the sky at a leisurely pace; one that allowed me to observe it for at least a minute before I had to change positions. It was rather large, with small gaps throughout, and appeared to be several different clouds conjoined into one. The left section was a wavy, horizontal line, enlarged and filled in by a "cotton ball." The right section was more abstract: it was somewhat triangular, though it, too, was wavy. The two sections combined together to create an alien shape, though it's puffiness gave it a friendly feel.

Then, at my vision's periphery, I spotted a wispy, thin string of clouds that, too, caught my attention. Although most everyone would overlook the thin whisper of an object, it possessed such a demure sublimity-such a simplistic shape of beauty-that was impossible to ignore. It was in a soft curl, all pieces curving and joining at one point. It was nearly a circle, but was slightly imperfect, which made it all the more intriguing.

I look away from the sky and survey the busy, moving people: there was so much movement, so much unnecessary hurry. Perhaps we should take advice from the clouds-we should learn to take time enjoying life, down to every last detail.