It's amazing when everything is dominated by realities that haven't got a human nature, and therefore are more homogeneous and pure, neutral and incorruptible: as clouds are. In "Where clouds reign ..." there're no privileges or privileged ones, only silence reigns. While water vapor passes surrounding us, windblown, it offers a very overwhelming feeling, almost one of helplessness. We can not grab these white shapes floating in the air, like big patches of a huge collage, neither stop them ... that white halo slips through the hands, the arms, the hair... too hastily... even it does slip with rage. It runs and runs once uncovering the landscape, then covering it again, in the form of a mad, torn curtain which travels constantly, sight is not so well adapted to follow these constant changes. One can not do anything inside this wet tangle, only with time slipping away, lose up our own body heat and be and feel more desolated as sadly maladjusted in this course of nature. Stun with the white purity of clouds, I'd like to retain the moment and take it with me forever ... but I can not. Picking moss, branches or any physical act is useless. That beauty can not be retained in any container that can be carried home. The basket and the content would not serve me, nor help me. Its beauty remains only in the mind. These instants so timeless are stored in our memory: luminosity, colors, smells ... muffled sounds, everything in the degree our senses are able to experience.

Memories are all that we can stored and kept "almost" forever, though there's no way to preserve their liveliness over time, with the years to come. "Quickly we forget what we long for, and slowly we forget what we do want to."

I do not know how long its vividness will stay in my mind, let's say: its humidity around me, the wet undergrowth and deserted paths, the cold stoned floor under my feet getting me colder at every moment and changing my vigil into lethargy; the peeved raindrops which are thrown by pines trees uncontrollably moved by the wind. I do not know how long I'll be able to remember and retain that temporary deceleration for my feelings and hence as a juice that nourishes my soul. "Where clouds reign"... was already gone, is just a memory, now a feeling for me.