The Sky Was Doing Its Thing Again is a Route 66 journal entry about an unexpected moment outside a truck stop, where a child’s wonder pulled me out of my phone and into the sky’s quiet show.
I was parked outside a Love’s Travel Stop, half-running on caffeine and half-hoping I’d remembered to lock the passenger door. The sun had that late-afternoon slant, gold and soft, like everything had been dipped in a faded postcard.
I was thumbing through my phone, trying to answer an email I didn’t want to answer. A kid walked by with his mom. He couldn’t have been more than six, dragging a stuffed turtle and wearing cowboy boots at least two sizes too big.
He stopped in his tracks and stared up at the sky.
“Mom,” he said, pointing, “the clouds are doing that swirl thing again.”
She didn’t even look up. “Yeah, baby. They do that.”
But the boy kept watching, eyes wide. Like it was the first miracle he’d seen all day.
I put my phone down. Just for a minute.
The clouds really were doing their thing , twisting, drifting, catching the last of the light. Not for me. Not even for him. Just because that’s what clouds do.
No one announced it. No one needed to. It was enough.
In that small stretch of parking lot, the world felt bigger. The hum of diesel engines, the shuffle of travelers, and above it all — that swirl of clouds, reminding me that beauty doesn’t need a stage.
✨ Roadside Reflection: The Sky Was Doing Its Thing Again
I never expected Route 66 to heal me in the way it did, but as the Route 66 Chaplain, I’ve seen it heal others too. Sometimes the world puts on a quiet show. Not for applause. Not for likes. Just to remind you to stop scrolling and look up.
Even a six-year-old knows: the sky’s always doing its thing — whether we notice or not.
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