He said they would taste like cotton candy, I said like vanilla. We had gotten lost in the park (and lost in thought) as we watched the clouds that day. We talked about it for hours, him and I. Wondering what a cloud would taste like, if it would tickle your throat when you swallowed, and whether it was best served hot or cold… but there was only one way to find out.
The next day he brought the climbing gear and I brought the ice cream scoop and cones. He threw a grappling hook up into the sky and it caught on the lowest cloud (which is very high indeed). He shimmied up the rope and I followed. We began to climb up, up, up (and even higher than that) until the houses looked like chocolate chips below us. Once the lowest cloud was reached, we bounced into its fuzziness and I pulled the first two cones out. A scoop and a lick later a pale vanilla was the verdict. (But since we were already up there, we might as well…)
He threw the hook onto a higher cloud and we began climbing again. We went up another flight of clouds (Do you think they come with elevators?) and another scoop and lick later we tasted fresh strawberry. Next cloud up was ginger snap. The next cloud was mint. The cloud after that was green tee. (Green tea? That’s what we thought too.) Orange and caramel, apple pie and chocolate, snickerdoodle and peach. (Do you think the flavors change with altitude?) The higher we climbed the brighter the flavors became. And then the air became fruit roll-up thin and we were almost out of cones and we began to find out you can overeat with anything – even clouds.
He threw his hook up one last time and we repelled down, bouncing from puff to puff as the ground came closer. We touched down and checked to see if anyone saw us as we tried to wipe our cloud sticky fingers off on the grass, and we walked away not hungry for dinner.