Grace Mary Potts


My life is comprised of inconsistencies, daydreaming, procrastination techniques and occasionally, writing.

Message to Readers

Quite a rough draft. I know it's a bit terrible but I hit a bit of writer's block with this one. Have a read and let me know what you think!

Our Beginning (The Significance of Rainy Days)

December 7, 2015

I adore rainy days. The strong scent of damp earth, the wriggling rivets running down the rain-speckled window pane, wet roads of slick asphalt, skidding shoes and jostling umbrellas and damp coats concealing warm cardigans. It all resolves itself into a rather comforting thing, for me. But, most of all, I love looking through the dotted glass to perceive the persistent presence of the grey mist that hangs in the sky, like a blanket of steel wool. Many find it odd - my adoration of a persistent cloud cover. From my perspective, however, it simply means that it makes all the more sense, that a cloud is how we ourselves began. 

For our beginning was a quiet thing, silenced by the vacuum of space; it was a fragile gathering of dust and gas in one dark corner of the galaxy, collecting to form one colossal structure.

Four and a half billion years ago, in the place of our ever-changing solar system, there existed a nebula. It was stunning and enormous, and the birthplace of what is, to us, perhaps the most important star in all of our ever-expanding Universe. Over time the gas within this nebula contracted and formed a great glowing ring, like a flower with fire at its centre, with petals made of churning, incandescent interstellar dust. 

It took ten million years, but eventually the centre of this flower began to burn hot and this ring, what we call a protostarevolved into a light that breathed warmth and life into this quiet corner of the Milky Way.

Simply put, it became the Sun. 

But... not all of the dust that made up the nebula helped form this luminous disk, much of it continued to dwell in the space around it. Until it began to clump together. The dust gathered to form grains, then rocks and boulders and eventually... planets. Rocks with masses so large that they generated their own gravitational force. These vast forms settled into orbits around the Sun and one rock, one noisy little thing riddled with volcanoes and plagued by electric storms, became the third planet from the sun. 

Now, four and a half billion years on, this planet has a name: Earth. It remains, to this day, the only planet of which we are aware that has been able to spawn life. It's such a precious and rare thing, so it causes me bafflement when I hear my classmates lamenting another cloudy day.

How could one despise clouds? After all, it was within one that we ourselves were born. 


See History
  • December 7, 2015 - 10:52pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.