If you're looking up and see the clouds moving one direction and a bird flying the other, it can really throw you off.

Moon, worn thin to the width of a quill,/ In the dawn clouds flying,/ How good to go, light into light, and still/ Giving light, dying.

The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else.

I think they had to do what they had to do, but it kind of clouds things.

It looked like Mount St. Helens erupting.

She said, 'I can't understand why you'd want to be up there.'