Giving a Name to Nothing.

It interests me that we take what is effectively an abstract concept – in this case the space above us when we’re outside – and give it a name. We call it ‘the sky.’ And because we give it a name we perceive it as something that actually exists in some sort of material form. Omar Kayyam, for example, in his Rubaiyat refers to the night sky as ‘the bowl of night.’

And so we say ‘the sky is cloudy’ or ‘the sky is blue.’ And despite being in full knowledge of the reality involved, our brains go even further and perceive it as something two-dimensional. Whether the sky is cloudy or clear, whether the clouds are moving or still, whether the colour is blue, white, grey, or splashed with fire at sunset, we still perceive it as a backdrop, a two-dimensional phenomenon.

And that’s why I like seeing what I saw this evening. There were small patches of low, grey, wispy cloud moving northwards on the evening breeze, but above and beyond their level the predominant colour was blue, and the high, orange-tipped clouds were still. And such a view reveals what ‘the sky’ really is – a three-dimensional space, empty but for the few interlopers like dust and water vapour which nature chooses to hang in it. We all know this, but we so rarely get the chance to see it that way.