When I was younger I would look up at the sky. My favorite times to do this was when the huge, white, fluffy clouds were lazily making their way across the sky. The perfect shade of blue showed between them. I would image all sort of animals, building, and faces hidden in the white, serene, fluffiness of water drops in the sky.
Now when I consider the sky my only thought is to assess the weather of my day to be. I miss the imagination and sentiment of my youth. Even trying, I see no faces in the clouds anymore.