A specific draw

Inuit · cloudy

Sila

the air working something out

Sila is breath before it is anything else, the wind is its exhale, the storm its shout, and a long grey stillness is the breath drawn in and held. The people knew what a held breath means in a person, something is being weighed. Nothing about a low sky is refusal, the elders taught, it is consideration, the world taking its time over the season, the hunt, the conduct of the camps, you among them. Standing under it today, do what you do when a friend goes quiet and thoughtful, keep them company and don't rush the answer.

Low cloud over a quarrel is Sila asking who will be still first, let it be you.