I left Brooklyn for California four months ago, which is long enough to get used to buying wine at the grocery store, but short enough that I still remember things like what a real bagel feels like (tough) and where to wait on the G platform (the middle) and when a true gentleman should sit down on the subway (never, according to my friend Tony). I miss all the obvious stuff: friends, taxis, foldable pizza. I knew those would hurt, and they do. But I didn’t know I’d miss clouds. (Image via pixabay.)
—Nefelomanzia, said the man, it’s a Greek word, nefele means cloud and manzia, to foretell, nefelomanzia is the art of predicting the future by observing the clouds, or rather, the form of the clouds, because in this art, form is substance, and that’s why I’ve come on vacation to this beach, because a friend from the air force who deals with meteorology assured me that in the Mediterranean there’s no other coast like this one where clouds form on the horizon in an instant. And as quickly as they take shape they dissolve again, and it’s right in that instant that a real nefelomant must practice his art, to understand what the shape of a certain cloud foretells before the formation dissolves in the wind, before it transforms into transparent air and turns to sky.
Every year, as summer comes to a close and the trees start to turn, I dream of finally becoming a really impressive cold-weather dresser: the kind of girl who wears a coat and a scarf and boots and yet magically somehow doesn't look like she's given up/is maybe wearing pajamas beneath that parka. It's a big dream, and one I don't ever seem to realize.
As we really start feeling the closing in of the daylight hours (yikes!), our Silver Linings Playlist is here to help, and also to make you feel a little bit like how we imagine J. Law feels 99% of the time.
We toyed with the idea of spending the whole month just talking about clouds, but in the end that seemed somehow… limiting. Or gloomy. It hit a little too close to home. So off we set into October, to spend 31 days meditating on clouds' optimistic counterpoints, their SILVER LININGS. Not so much the playbook type, but more kind that highlights a sable cloud. Ok, or maybe both.