Clouds Are Hard to Describe


Clouds are hard to describe.
I mention this because, as a writer, it is from time to time my charge to do just that.
Therefore I have shucked away my past procrastination. Last minute panic is a fine state for things like treatise on subatomic orbitational instability of electron orbit caused by electromagnoscopic interference from extra-inter-pan-solar gamma radiation sources, but it simply doesn't work for clouds.
Bitter experience has taught me this, so heed my words.
Clouds come in many different shapes and sizes. This makes it difficult. If I need to write a description now that will fit any possible future use, it has to be very broad. But what to do? Some clouds are big, some are small. Some are thick, some are thin. Some are green, some are brown. Some are republican, some are democrat. I think you begin to see my point.
And this leads us to an interesting possibility: perhaps it would be better to describe clouds by what they are not. No cloud, for example, has much in common with your average Kangaroo spleen. Or even your average emergency-brake. Or a bowling ball.
Again, I think you begin to see my point.
So perhaps something like this:
"The clouds hung in the sky, in much the manner that telephone wouldn't."
Hmmm, no. I think not. Telephones and clouds are too similar, if you know what I mean.
Rubbing alcohol?, you suggest. No you fool! Again, think of all the millions of similarities between rubbing alcohol and clouds! No, we'll have to come up with something else.
Elephants? No... Bicycles? No... Sporks? Ye-- ...no. That wont work either.
Bowling balls are the answer here I think (as in so many things).
"The cloud sat in the sky, very much unlike a bowling ball."
My work here is done.