Clear blue in Eastern Washington. An old friend from our Tri-Cities days once told me that if there's even one cloud in the sky, she feels cheated.
I feel the opposite. A clear blue sky is like a blank canvas—nothing interesting has been recorded yet. I love the ever-changing canvas where I live. I think I'd stare up at the sky, longing for more, if all I ever saw was plain blue.
I can't begin to count the hours I've spent watching the clouds above me. Lying on my back in the pasture on a warm sunny day, listening to my horse munch grass, the red-winged blackbirds trilling down by the pond. Looking up, watching the clouds roll by.
Or tipping my head back in the roadster, watching the sky as the wind blows through my hair, the interplay between blue and white, the shapes changing as the wind blows through them.
To my mind, clouds make all the difference in landscape photography. So many images wouldn't be worth taking, except for beauty of the sky. So wherever you go, don't forget to look up.