I shrugged. “Why not?”
“It’s a little morbid.”
“Not really.” I couldn’t explain to Ozrik how photography grounded me, brought me closer to God, and had replaced church. I couldn’t explain how finding a spiritual connection of any kind was important since leaving the seminary. How without it, I was a lost ten-year-old boy again.
Our gazes caught.
Ozrik smiled, and my belly swooped.
I darted my gaze to the ground and tried not to blush, which was impossible.
What was happening?
“H-how did you know I was here?” My voice unattractively croaked.
“The guys and I are at the Comfort Inn across the street.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the main road. “I noticed a neon green Jeep in the parking lot and thought… What are the chances?”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s… bright.”Dig a hole and bury me alive.Why did everything I say come out sounding stupid?
Ozrik’s devilish smile grew. “It’s like a highlighter.”
On purpose, I didn’t say. A loud vehicle for such a meek man made no sense. It drew unwanted attention when I worked so hard to go unnoticed, but I camped often and traveled into the wilderness alone. The Jeep packed nicely, and because it calledattention to itself and acted like a beacon, if I was ever in trouble, it would make me easy to find.
“I assume you’re tracking the storm?” Ozrik glanced at the canopy overhead. The sky was obscure beyond the dense leaves.
I nodded. “Why else would I be here?”
Another grin. “You’re not much of a conversationalist, are you?”
“Oh.” Was he trying to make conversation? “N-no. Not usually. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry a lot.”
I almost apologized for apologizing but stopped myself in time.
Ozrik studied the faded monuments, then searched the canopy above. “What are they called again?”
“What?” I followed his gaze but had no idea what he was talking about. “What are what called?” I expected he was referring to a bird or some type of insect.
“The clouds. You can’t see them under here. It’s like a gauzy filter is covering the sun. It’s patchy in spots. It has a proper name. I can never remember.”
“Oh. Altostratus.”
“That’s it.”
“They often signal larger storm systems moving into an area in the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”
Ozrik nodded. “Altostratus.” He said the word a few times as though committing it to memory.
“Also, altocumulus.”
Ozrik tipped his head. “Alto—What now?”
“Cumulus. Altocumulus. It’s a mix of both today. That happens often. By tomorrow, midday, I bet we see cumulus congestus.”
“Those are the cauliflower-type ones, right?”
“Yes, or pre-storm clouds, if you will.”
