According to superstition, a child would not grow if he laid on the ground and let a cloud cross over him. That did not bother my cousins and I when, during our summer reunions, we would watch clouds while lying down on the spiky grass covering our grandparent’s yard. We would chitchat, tease one another, and giggle until we itched from the grass or the sun got too hot. Although most of my cousins from my father’s side lived in other provinces, they normally visited on the feast days of our patron saint and during major family celebrations. I have not been to family gatherings for many years now. Many of my cousins and I now live all over the world. A couple have even passed on. Meanwhile, all of us had aged but none could boast about being tall.
White clouds on blue skies
Flock of sheep led to pasture
Dispersed by the wind
Toni Spencer hosts DVerse’s Haibun Monday: The Sky is the Limit