Each year the Lilliums in front of my verandah shoot up anew, aiming for the roof but not quite making it. Still, at about three metres, their height is impressive and their bells bloom well above the verandah railing, allowing their heavy perfume to reach me at my desk, despite the dense greenery between us.
I went outside and walked around below them to look up into their throats — and only then did I notice what was going on in the background.
High-flying beauty of a different sort was taking shape in the sky beyond.
Delicately tufted white Cirrus clouds, the highest-flying of all the main cloud types, were streaking and flipping their ice crystals across the blue. My Cloudspotters’ Guide tells me they typically form above 24,000 feet. These ethereal wisps won’t last long, unlike my fleshy Lilliums.