the sad cloudy bird.

In the ethereal domain of Glow, where mists murmured mysteries of the skies and painted dusks with tones of dreams, carried on with a herd of birds dissimilar to some other. These were the Shady Birds, creatures of fog and fume, fragile as morning dew yet having the effortlessness and opportunity of their natural partners. Their plumes sparkled with the radiance of the sun, and around evening time, they gleamed delicately under the vigilant look of the moon.

Among these Shady Birds was a youthful one named Cumulus. Cumulus was not normal for the others in that frame of mind than one. While his loved ones delighted in the delight of taking off through the perpetual sky, making perky shapes out of the mists, and lounging in the glow of the sun, Cumulus conveyed a significant trouble inside him. His despairing was not conceived out of situation but rather out of a profound, existential longing that he couldn't exactly lucid.

Cumulus frequently wound up floating away from the group, drifting alone in the tremendous territory of the sky. He would watch the world beneath, the clamoring urban communities, the tranquil woodlands, and the limitless seas, with a yearning that he was unable to fathom. The natural birds, with their strong structures and upbeat tunes, entranced him. He appreciated their capacity to roost on branches, to feel the earth underneath their feet, and to cooperate with the world in manners he could merely fantasize about.

At some point, as Cumulus was meandering through the sky, he experienced an old and shrewd Shady Bird named Stratus. Stratus had lived for a really long time, seen endless tempests and dawns, and conveyed with him the insight of the ages. He saw the bitterness in Cumulus and moved toward him tenderly.

"For what reason do you meander alone, youthful one?" Stratus asked, his voice as delicate as the breeze.

Cumulus faltered prior to talking. "I feel... fragmented," he conceded. "I see the birds beneath, living in a world so not quite the same as our own. They experience things we won't ever can. I envy them."

Stratus gestured, understanding. "Feeling such things is normal. We are animals of the sky, bound to the mists. However, that doesn't mean we can't track down our own satisfaction."

"Yet, how?" Cumulus entreated. "How might I track down satisfaction when I feel so disengaged from everything around me?"

Stratus thought briefly. "Maybe what you want is to find your own motivation. We as a whole play a part in this huge sky. You should see as yours."

With this exhortation, Cumulus chose to leave on an excursion. He would traverse the skies, looking for shrewdness and understanding. He visited the clouds, where he found out about the power and fierceness of tempests. He flew through the delicate, pink billows of day break, where he found the excellence of fresh starts. He even dared to the edge of the sky, where he could see the stars very close and felt a feeling of the limitless.

Regardless of his movements, the feeling of yearning didn't leave him. One night, as he was laying on a desolate cloud, he saw a little, delicate animal battling contrary to the natural flow. It was a butterfly, brushed off base and frantically attempting to track down its direction. Cumulus looked briefly prior to choosing to help. He tenderly directed the butterfly, protecting it from the breeze with his own foggy structure, and drove it to a place of refuge.

The butterfly, thankful and safe, vacillated around Cumulus in a cheerful dance prior to taking off into the sunset. At that time, Cumulus felt a flash of euphoria he had never felt. It was not the transitory joy of interruption but rather a more profound, more significant feeling of satisfaction.

Understanding that his motivation could lie in helping other people, Cumulus started to search out those out of luck. He safeguarded birds from storms, directed lost bugs, and, surprisingly, assisted with watering the dry earth underneath by tenderly delivering his dampness. Each thoughtful gesture carried him nearer to figuring out his spot on the planet.

Expression of his deeds spread among the Overcast Birds, and soon they started to go along with him. They tracked down satisfaction in their aggregate endeavors, and the once segregated and miserable Cumulus turned into an encouraging sign and motivation for the whole rush. They at this point not just drifted carelessly; they had tracked down a reason in their reality.

Over the long haul, Cumulus' bitterness disseminated. He actually respected the natural birds and their reality, however he as of now not felt envy. He had found his position in the skies, helping other people and giving pleasure any place he went. His heart, when weighty with yearning, was presently light and loaded with affection.

At some point, as he was directing a group of transitory birds through an especially tempestuous fix of sky, Cumulus felt a delicate presence next to him. It was Stratus, grinning with a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"You have tracked down your motivation, Cumulus," Stratus said delicately. "Furthermore, in doing as such, you have carried importance to our whole rush." Cumulus grinned, a feeling of harmony settling over him. "Much obliged to you, Stratus. I see now. Our motivation isn't generally clear right away, yet assuming we open our hearts and try to help other people, we track down our position on the planet."

Thus, in the domain of Aura, where the sky was their home and the mists their jungle gym, the Overcast Birds resided with freshly discovered bliss and reason. They took off through the skies, not similarly as ethereal creatures of fog and fume, however as watchmen of the sky, spreading thoughtfulness and light any place they went. What's more, among them, Cumulus, when a miserable and meandering soul, found his actual joy in the basic yet significant demonstration of helping other people, everlastingly changing the existences of those he contacted.