I find sky terribly distracting. Water vapor fills the expanse with poetry. Cliches about weather, peace, flying, freedom, and art (to name a few) explode in my brain every time a perfect, puffy haiku drifts lazily east. In the only dream with clouds I can remember, I stand on a beach looking out at a hurricane without a clue as to whether or not its coming for me. It's one of those dreams I've had a few times, but is always slightly different, and I can only recall with some sort of trigger. (see above)
A summer day after a storm can wreak havoc on my pictures. All I end up photographing are clouds.
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