Sydney Harbour’s North Head is always worth contemplating from any distance, the sandstone cliff faces are chameleons in the changing late afternoon light, and mostly upstage both Middle Head and the sky, but this  late autumn afternoon cloudscape, with its impossible volume of cold grey cumulus under a vast acreage of pink-mauve tinted stratus, seems to the kind of brinkmanship of scale that  outdoes everything else in sight, that Goethe’s adage that the sky offers the one perfect view, seems perfectly apt.