Clouds

"We people possess records, like gravestones, of individual clouds and the dates on which they flourished.

"In 1824, John Constable took his beloved and tubercular wife, Maria, to Brighton Beach. They hoped the sea air would cure her.  On June 12 he sketched, in oils, squally clouds over Brighton beach.  The gray clouds lowered over the water in failing light.  They swirled from a central black snarl.

"In 1828, as Maria Constable lay dying in Putney, John Constable went to Brighton to gather some of their children.  On May 22 he recorded one oblique bluish cloud riding high and messy over a wan sun.  Two thin red clouds streaked below.  Below the clouds he painted disconnected people splashed and dotted over an open, wide coast.

"Maria Constable died that November.  We still have these dated clouds."  

Annie Dillard, For the Time Being

Maybe we possess records of the clouds as records of ourselves.