A tree with fluffy white clouds on the ends of its branches!
Our brains try to make sense ...
To be precise: I woke up and looked out towards the bare branches of a plum tree. Beyond the tree was a pattern of fluffy white clouds and blue sky, so that what I saw was a spreading tree silhouette with clumps of cloud where, later in the year, masses of leaves and blossoms will appear. It seemed like a fruit tree with white blossoms, except without any leaves ... white cotton candy and other cliches came to mind, as I tried to figure out what I was seeing.
I have "poor eyesight". In between the capabilities of folks born with no eyesight, and folks whose eyesight is initially good but drifts later: my eyesight was always there, but has never been OK. I am an enthusiastic patron of ocular medicine and optical technology. But when my glasses or contacts are off ...
My first "vision" is one of the earliest moments I can remember. My father worked at UC Riverside and we were renting a house from "the Hallbergs" who were on sabbatical. Lying in my second floor bedroom, the only light coming from outside through curtains, I saw ... the inside of a transparent but glowing sphere that slowly circled my body, seemingly several feet away, slowly and inexorably turning ...
I tried to touch it (nope!), tried to make it stop (I could only make it skip backwards slightly). I didn't tell anyone; I hadn't yet learned that I could take my questions to Mom and she would say something unforgettable. I just watched and marveled.
It's possible that I was seeing particles on the surface of my eye. (I also have floaters, but those move differently, jogging up and down rather than progressing steadily across, as if I was inside a turning transparent globe.) The effect has never recurred quite that same way.
I have two favorite effects.
When my eyes are shut against an external light source, I can see material flowing rapidly in a branching capillary. It may be on the back wall of my eye socket or in my eyelid. I can't see the individual blood cells, just frantic movement constrained by narrow passages.
At night, automobile tail-lights are glowing red speckled starbursts. If I lower my eyelids halfway, I see my eyelashes come down and cut each starburst in half. The more tail-lights, the more glowing half-circles with eyelash patterns at the top!
Try This At Home: Next time you're looking out at a line of traffic (and not driving, yourself), let your eyes blur, however you do that, so that the tail-lights are glowing circles, and then lower your eyelashes. You won't see exactly what I see but it'll be yours.
 Cue Cate Blanchett's voice saying, "The world is changing..." As I write this, it's just as wrong that Portland OR has blue sky and fluffy clouds in January, as it is that the Eastern Seaboard is having a murderous snow storm.
 I grew up in a white-privileged family where Dad was "away, working" and Mom took care of two kids, stealing time to make art. At the age of 47 she started creating art full time. Mom and I have made peace about some of her "explanations" and the rest were precisely accurate and extremely helpful.
 My largest floater so far has been a dark mass that hung around for a decade or more before it shrank to ignorable size. As it turned, its silhouette alternately suggested a Vietnam-era helicopter or a person on their knees, hunched over in prayer. In order to more smoothly co-exist with it, I named it Persis, after Dare Wright.
 In another chunk of memoir I deal with the vexed question of what class I was brought up in. Each of my parents was the first in their family with a college degree. Broadly, we were "middle class," back when there was such a thing.