An hour later, most of the sky was covered in clouds, but by then the image they suggested was a section of a complex river delta, with clusters of pale, ghostly brush separated by channels of dark water, varied in width, all forming a huge maze. The clouds drifted across the moon, but failed to obscure it, merely dimming its light a bit, and spreading it among themselves so that the entire section of sky around the moon was filled with softly glowing patches.
By the time the sky began to pale with the approach of dawn, the clouds which had not dissipated were slowly drifting northward, and the dim stars were unveiled once more. Now, as the first birds chirp, the clouds have all but vanished, leaving only a few vagrant tatters as reminders of their brief passage. The day will most likely show but the blue void of summer, and the sun will again bake the unshaded earth. I miss the clouds, already. Perhaps they will appear again tonight.