I love the little town of Buffalo, WY, and I wandered down again last night to do errands, check Internet and read texts. I found the lovely library and the PO. I drove by the movie theater and was half-tempted to see a movie, but I did not like hat was playing. Anyway, it was too hot to leave  Tango in the van: I saw on a bank sign the temperature was 90 degrees at 7:30 PM

So, we headed back home to the chilly mountains. I decided to build a  campfire and cook something in the pie iron. I started around 8:30 PM, when the sky was still light and the afternoon cloud bank was still  floating by. The moisture was pulled out of the fluffy clouds on the western flank of the Bighorms and I enjoyed the spectacular cloud show moving through.

As I waited for the fire to dwindle into a bed of coals, I watched the clouds. They morphed from growling mean monsters to dogs chasing after distorted faces. One of the dogs was a perfect image of a Scotty. I saw several  lizards with open mouths looking for a meal. Sometimes the clouds were just a fluffy mass, with a tinge of orange from reflected evening light.

As the clouds transformed into new shapes, they moved in slow motion along the straight top of the aspen grove across the meadow. The trees were dark and the sky a gray-white, and I felt like I was watching a large outdoor movie screen. However, the screen was the whole sky. The show seemed to have a plot, a message, and even choreography.

I never figured out the plot or message. I could make up a few things but they would be nothing more than sentimental guesses, and I am trying to avoid shallow responses to the outdoors.  Instead, I  sat quietly enjoying choreography of slow-dancing cloud formations, my personal IMAX. Too late, I realized did not have my camera. Perhaps I can catch some photos at the next showing.