CLOUD WATCHING

I was lying on the grass, gazing up at the clouds through my sunglasses. A thumping remix of Adele's Hello was filling the air.

We'd done well. The choir had almost buzzed off the stage, beaming with pride at what they'd achieved. And rightly so! I was there, fist-bumping and back-patting with the rest of them at the end. It must have looked odd to the crowd of scattered picnickers across the grass, but none of us cared.

We'd performed at a mini-festival, organised for someone's 50th birthday. And now, in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I was lying watching the clouds, feeling totally relaxed and proud of myself.

The sky was a deep rich blue and the clouds were wispy white. The sun was warm and the music was young and fresh. My toes were moving independently to the rest of me, in time with the beat. It was a glorious moment of summer freedom.

You can look up at clouds anywhere in the world. You can't always see mountains, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, cities, parks, gardens or people, but you can always see the sky. It belongs to all of us. It was a great reminder, at the start of Positivity Week, that all you have to do is look up sometimes.

A little later on, some of the choir members were chatting in the sunshine.

"I just leave them out there on the line," said Lynn.

"What? In the rain?" I said.

"Yeah. It's only water."

"But aren't you... essentially just re-washing your clothes in rainwater?"

"They're already clean," she said, "You should try it. Just wait for them to dry again and bring them in."

I was astounded. It has never occurred to me to leave washing out in the rain. In fact, if it rained, I would be more than likely to throw my hands in the air, sigh dramatically and then grump about having to 'wash it all again then'. Though, not in Positivity Week I guess. Annette chuckled at me, presumably for never having thought of it.

I adjusted my sunglasses and went back to watching the clouds.