One of my favorite childhood memories is lying on my back on the hillside in Sherwood Forest (not that one), watching the clouds move across the sky, identifying their shapes, observing them change shape into something else yet again. The warmth of the sun, the rough, grass-and-moss-covered earth under my back, the drone of insects, the choral songs of the birds … I am looking forward to summer. My mother taught me to watch the clouds. I am grateful.