How to Catch a Cloud and Keep It

Lilly had always wondered how to catch a cloud. She knew it couldn’t be done in the usual way, like when you catch a butterfly with a jar or a fish with a net. No, catching a cloud would require more … ambition. She dreamed of holding its puffy perfection, folding it up, and tucking it into her pocket. After all, if you could catch a cloud, you could probably keep a piece of the sky, too.

One fine morning, as the sun beamed down, and a cool breeze whispered through the trees, Lilly set out on her adventure, boots crunching softly along the leafy path. She had her trusty umbrella, her grandmother’s knitting bag (which she was convinced could hold anything), and a rather large, very serious looking hat, because after all, catching clouds was no laughing matter.

“First things first,” Lilly said to herself, “you need a good cloud.”

She tilted her head back, scanning the sky for a perfect cloud. One that wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small, and preferably, one that looked like a sheep. After some time, she spotted one, a fluffy little puff drifting lazily across the big blue sky.

“Perfect,” she murmured, holding out her umbrella as if it were a fishing rod. She took a deep breath, focused her eyes, and jumped.

For a moment, she seemed to hover, weightless, caught somewhere between gravity and hope. But the cloud remained just beyond her reach, and Lilly tumbled to the ground with a soft thud.

“Hmmm,” she sighed, brushing a few blades of grass off her clothes. “Let’s try something else.”

Lilly sat cross-legged on the ground and stared up at the cloud. The cloud, rather indifferent to her plans, continued its meandering.

“What do clouds like?” Lilly mused. “Wind. Clouds like wind. Wind makes them move faster. I need wind.”

She jumped to her feet and grabbed her umbrella, opening it with great fanfare. A breeze picked up, ruffling her hair. She began running in circles, twirling the umbrella above her head, hoping the wind would grow stronger.

To her surprise, it did, and the cloud seemed to shift ever so slightly, seemingly taking an interest in her antics. With a grin, Lilly hurried in the cloud’s direction, holding the umbrella high, as though she might scoop it from the sky.

But as quickly as the wind arrived, it was gone, and so was the cloud, drifting away like it had somewhere else to be. Lilly stopped in her tracks, hands on hips, frustrated, but not defeated.

“I can’t chase it up there,” she muttered. “This can’t be how to catch a cloud.”

And so, Lilly sat down again, this time with a little more patience. She watched the cloud, calm and unhurried, and realized something important. Clouds don’t like being rushed. They don’t like being chased, or forced, or caught at all.

So she closed her eyes, and simply waited.

Minutes passed. The world became still, calm, peaceful. All Lilly could hear were the sounds of the breeze, the soft rustling of the leaves around her, and birds chirping in the distance. All she could feel was the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the air, and the grass beneath her. It made her sleepy. And just as Lilly was beginning to dose off, she felt it.

A soft weight, like a cotton ball, settled on her head. She opened her eyes to find the cloud had come closer, drifting right into her reach. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her hand. The cloud, curious about her stillness, hovered gently over her palm.

“Hello there,” Lilly whispered, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face.

The cloud seemed to shimmer, like the surface of the sea, its edges dissolving and re-forming as it moved gently in the air. It wasn’t anything like she’d expected, it was perfect.

With a delicate touch, the cloud allowed itself to be tucked into her knitting bag. She stood, the weight of the bag surprisingly light, as if the cloud were now helping her carry it.

The sky above was still filled with clouds of all shapes and sizes, but Lilly had what she needed. A special treasure, tucked safely away, waiting for the right moment to float away again.

As she walked home, the day felt a little brighter, and the air smelled a little sweeter. Maybe, just maybe, she’d found a way to take a piece of the sky and keep it.