Something is happening near Brooks Pond. The clouds have an ethereal glow. An owl hoots. Mylo barks. Change is coming. September will soon be a week old, yet it’s 100 degrees. Could we be in Dante’s Inferno? Too hot for man or beast. No hot apple cider; too hot. No campfires swapping ghost stories; too hot. The cloud is watching.

The Old Ones speak of such a Cloud in their day. It hovered between earth and sky. Many feared the Cloud, while others believed it spoke of future events. ‘I saw angels in the Cloud,’ Ethel said. ‘They were looking right at me. I decided to do better, be better,’ Ethel continued. ‘The Cloud was in the sky at night with a light of candles in the middle of it that radiated,’ Ethel noted. ‘The night had a spectral glow from the Cloud with the mysterious light in it,’ Ethel whispered.

As the President spoke in the Rose Garden, the Cloud appeared behind him. Many in the audience became distracted as the light from the inner glow was like nothing they had ever seen. The President spoke of revenge on his enemies, getting even by inflicting more pain on them than they had inflicted on him. The Cloud grew increasingly dark. Lightning lit up the sky. The outdoor event ended.

A Voice came from the Majestic Cloud that spoke one word, Peace.’ The fighting stopped. The President bowed his head and sat down.