The heart in the sky over Saint Etienne en Devoluy, France. © Emily Morus-Jones.
“Prior to my accepting the job over here, breaking away from my old job, I was divided and in two minds as to what to do. I consulted one of my dearest friends whom I have known since we were both children and who completed a ski season last year in Meribel in the 3 Valleys. He told me that I had to go, and that I would not regret it. One week later he died under incredibly tragic circumstances, (for details please see the following link about the inquest a few days ago into his death) leaving a gap in the universe that will never again be filled and, in my opinion and that of others, leaving the world a far worse off place. As far as I was concerned I no longer had a choice, I had to go.
“Five weeks into my season, I was still in an incredibly fragile state, I still am now. However, I had been doing quite well at just getting on with it, telling myself that he’d kick my arse if he saw me moping all the time. Despite my efforts though, I did find myself being overcome with emotion from time to time. One such occasion I was sitting in one of the cafes on the slopes taking a break after boarding for 3 hours on my own. I was tired which didn’t help and I was depressed because I really just wanted one person who I could go out with and learn from. I kept on thinking about how different it would be if he was there, if he was with me. I found water to be welling up in my eyes so I looked up to the sky in the hope that if anyone saw me they would just assume that it was the sun in my eyes that was making them water. Attached you will find a photo of what I saw, I took two pictures just to make sure I wasn’t tripping or anything. Then, at the exact moment that I saw it, the music in the cafe changed to Pink Floyd, ‘Wish You Were Here’. Now I am generally quite a scientifically minded person, but that day I am convinced that he spoke to me. And even if it was all coincidence, I still found myself getting back on my board and riding like mad for the rest of the day.”
Emily’s story touched a chord with us. It made us think of the 1913 poem, ‘Clouds’, by the British war poet, Rupert Brooks:
They say that the Dead die not, but remain
Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.
I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,
In wise majestic melancholy train,
And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,
And men, coming and going on the earth.
Read Emily’s blog here.
See Emily’s photograph of a heart on the society photo gallery.
Wow, that’s a great story and what’s more, it’s fantastic that Callum sent the message and you received it! So many messages are missed in our busy lives. You clearly share a wonderful cosmic link that cannot be broken. Thanks for sharing xx
Thank you all for your wonderful comments, I am deeply moved that this story has been able to strike a chord with so many. I have shown this site to Callum’s family and last week (on Callum’s birthday actually the 23rd of March) I received a card from his mother thanking me for the whole cloud story thing. She also enclosed a poem that she had received from a polish poet whose husband died young which she states she liked. I thought you all might enjoy to read it too:
CLOUDS
I’d have to be really quick
to describe clouds –
a split second’s enough
for them to start being something else.
Their trademark:
they don’t repeat a single
shape, shade, pose, arrangement.
Unburdened by memory of any kind,
they float easily over the facts.
What on earth could they bear witness to?
They scatter whenever anything happens.
Compared to clouds,
life rests on solid ground,
practically permenant, almost eternal.
Next to clouds
even stone seems like a brother,
someone you can trust,
while they’re just distant, slightly cousins.
Let people exist if they want,
and then die, one after another:
clouds simply don’t care
what they’re up to
down there
And so their haughty fleet
cruises smoothly over your whole life
and mine, still incomplete.
They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone.
They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.
Apologies for not posting this sooner – internet access has been restricted and Cal’s birthday was an emotional event.
Thank you all once again for your wonderful comments, I am touched that this photo and story was able to reach out to so many.
Big love to all the cloud lovers,
EmilyxXx
Thank you Emily for sharing this and to everyone else that commented. It’s 4am and I’m awake, worried about my very old very frail mum and somehow this has been comforting. Best wishes.
Just a simple thank you from me Emily for you sharing your thoughts and the “heart cloud” photo with us . May all the dark clouds disappear from your life.
Yes, the skies offer us so much wonder and comfort. Departed loved ones have spoken to me through light beams and rainbows as well as clouds. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story, Emily.
very moving
This incredible sign you experienced is even more wonderful because you shared it with all of us. My eyes are watering in wonder, appreciation and hope for times of grief. My heart be still. Thank you.
I follow a pagan path, and so truly believe that we continue as part of this planet, from one life to the next. Emily, I’m sure that was a sign, and probably won’t be the last.
I’m new to this wonderful Society so found it odd that the first post I read, in the first newsletter I have received, mentions Rupert Brooks’ poetry. When I served in the Navy we stopped at the Greek islands and a working party went ashore to renovate the grave of Rupert Brooks. How strange the unseen tendrils that tie us to one another.
Something similar happened to me. A close friends son drowned saving another’s life in the sea. He was the only boy , with 5 sisters.Late afternoon, I saw a cloud that looked like a fist with the thumbs up sign. I took a photo and gave it to his mother. I felt it was a sign saying he was okay. She enlarged it and put his photo with it.It gave her comfort somehow.
Great Photo Emily, and a lovely sign of love.
Emily, it seems that you have encountered Those that Arrange – my term for explaining the force behind the ‘beyond coincidence’ coincidences. Sometimes things/events are just too precise for coincidence, too personal and, having experienced many such happenings, I am in no doubt that super-nature is ready and willing to communicate with us. Take heart!
I remember this heart cloud from my Twitter timeline, but had no idea until now what it meant. Thank you Emily for sharing with us the story of your beautiful brave friend. Maybe a book no Clouds That Mean Something is an idea? We could dedicate it to your friend. x Paula
I was so touched by your post, Emily. I think you were incredibly blessed to have seen this ‘evidence’ that your friend is indeed still with you. For what it’s worth, I have spent a lot of time in India and have learned a lot about alternative beliefs. I have come to the conclusion that death is not the end; in fact there is no such thing as death – we simply go on to the next stage of our journey. And there is a reason for everything that happens – but we poor things are rarely able to fathom this. And for ‘wish you were here’ to start playing when you noticed the cloud heart – aw, Emily, how lovely was that? I can’t tell you not to be sad – of course you will be sad – but I hope you can find some comfort in these ‘coincidences’. Lots of love and hugs to you.
Reading these texts & comments have moved me to tears. Thank you
thankyou so much for this Emily. since my partner died 4 years ago i spend a lot of my life looking up at clouds….now i know why
Emiliy and Granny, from my heart thank you for your inspiring words.
No way!!!! All the things you just said are incredible!!!!!
First of all you have an original copy of those wonderful poems (something i am insanely jealous of|)and you’ve also a just rocked my world with the Navaho people cloud fact!! Thank you so much for you’re awesome comment, you just made my day as the cloud appreciation society in general keeps on doing time and time again!
Grannny Weatherwitch you rule on an unprecedented level!
Thank you for sharing your story, Emily, and the photo of a heart-shaped cloud. It was good to be reminded of Rupert Brooke’s poem Clouds. My second cousin’s stepmother was Rupert Brooke’s Nanny, and married my Great Uncle Bert when the cousin was about 4 years old. I am privileged to have inherited an original copy of Rupert Brooke’s poems, published after he died and given to the family by his father. I’m not sure if reading his work when young had any input into my own love of clouds and the sky, but maybe……. I’m so glad you were able to receive a sky-sign from your deceased friend. Did you know that one Native American Tribe (Navaho I think) believe that when someone dies, their soul for a sort time becomes a cloud to say goodbye to those still on Earth?
If it is not the Navaho people, I apologise. Hopefully someone can correct my mistake. GWWW