Remember when you were a child? You lay on your back and gazed at clouds--drifting--so far, so far away. And as you gazed you thought you could see trains and boats or a whale swimming through the sky. You could picture lions and giraffes, perhaps a swan and you would make up stories about everything you imagined. Adults told you they were collections of water droplets or ice particles suspended in mid-air but to a child they were real. Cumulus clouds were shaped like mountains or a cauliflower, while the Cirrus were feathery like something worn on a giant's hat. The clouds changed their form as they passed--magically turning from one shape to another. Sometimes they were dark and menacing, sometimes as soft as a comforter. You could see things in the moon too although that was harder after men walked on heaven's night light. I envisioned a castle with a moat--I was the princess, of course, waiting for my own personal Prince Charming to rescue me.
Did you compose stories when you looked at clouds or the moon? Did you make up stories in early childhood?