Ninn Salaün

Reports From Unknown Places About Undescribable Events

Reports From Unknown Places is a daily project that aims to document meteorological and other natural events in various undisclosed locations since March 2020.

You can follow its development on Twitter and Instagram.

(Click on the pictures to read the captions!)

July 1st We report a golden hour that swept over this field, now lingering at the edge of the woods. There are sparrows flying high over the trees, chattering loudly, and over here, the grass is still a little bit warm from the afternoon sun.

July 1st

We report a golden hour that swept over this field, now lingering at the edge of the woods. There are sparrows flying high over the trees, chattering loudly, and over here, the grass is still a little bit warm from the afternoon sun.

July 2nd We report: this is one of the other ways in which summer gets hot, not from the blazing sun but from sizzling electricity traveling through the clouds. We have never seen lightning strike anything from up close, but we still feel that primordial awe at the flash and thunder.

July 2nd

We report: this is one of the other ways in which summer gets hot, not from the blazing sun but from sizzling electricity traveling through the clouds. We have never seen lightning strike anything from up close, but we still feel that primordial awe at the flash and thunder.

July 3rd We report, this evening, as the sky changed quickly and the humidity permeated the air, we heard some rustling in the bushes near us. We turned carefully and saw some deers in the clearing; it seems that we were downwind, because we were able to observe them for a long time.

July 3rd

We report, this evening, as the sky changed quickly and the humidity permeated the air, we heard some rustling in the bushes near us. We turned carefully and saw some deers in the clearing; it seems that we were downwind, because we were able to observe them for a long time.

July 4th We report: a rising moon crescent, 27% of visibility, five days old. We forgot where we were supposed to look for the moon in the night sky, and we spun around for a while. We are feeling a little bit dizzy, but we found the moon.

July 4th

We report: a rising moon crescent, 27% of visibility, five days old. We forgot where we were supposed to look for the moon in the night sky, and we spun around for a while. We are feeling a little bit dizzy, but we found the moon.

July 5th We report, this summer day, the sun is so bright today, whites out everything else. We stepped out and tried to look at the sky through squinting eyes, and only got a vague idea of what the clouds were like; but then their impression stayed on our retinas wherever we looked.

July 5th

We report, this summer day, the sun is so bright today, whites out everything else. We stepped out and tried to look at the sky through squinting eyes, and only got a vague idea of what the clouds were like; but then their impression stayed on our retinas wherever we looked.

July 6th We report: here on this beach, we are thinking about the lofty pursuits of the ocean, nibbling at the sandy coast every day, with infinite patience. We hope to take a little bit of it home whenever we come here.

July 6th

We report: here on this beach, we are thinking about the lofty pursuits of the ocean, nibbling at the sandy coast every day, with infinite patience. We hope to take a little bit of it home whenever we come here.

July 7th We report the clouds, tonight, the colour of pomegranate, the sky was stained, spilling out. When we turned to our expert to point it out, their eyes and hair reflected the sky; there was a rosy glow on their face. There was a sweet smell in the air, or maybe we imagined it.

July 7th

We report the clouds, tonight, the colour of pomegranate, the sky was stained, spilling out. When we turned to our expert to point it out, their eyes and hair reflected the sky; there was a rosy glow on their face. There was a sweet smell in the air, or maybe we imagined it.

July 8th We report: there was a breeze in the morning that grew ever stronger throughout the day, confusing the clouds into sinuous shapes up in the sky, and swaying the poppies and the bugs down here. Now, the rustling of the grass and the howling of the wind are filling our ears.

July 8th

We report: there was a breeze in the morning that grew ever stronger throughout the day, confusing the clouds into sinuous shapes up in the sky, and swaying the poppies and the bugs down here. Now, the rustling of the grass and the howling of the wind are filling our ears.

July 9th We report, after this warm, cloudless day: we witnessed a flight of bats overhead as the sky darkened and the temperature slowly dropped. There was the sound of their wings flapping; and then we saw them, a large group leaving for the night, maybe more than a hundred of them.

July 9th

We report, after this warm, cloudless day: we witnessed a flight of bats overhead as the sky darkened and the temperature slowly dropped. There was the sound of their wings flapping; and then we saw them, a large group leaving for the night, maybe more than a hundred of them.

July 10th We report: clouds rolling down the mountain, one by one, or so it seems. We are halfway between a drizzle and a mist, down here, and the humidity is carrying the smell of the woods and the moss, and the mineral scent of the mountain.

July 10th

We report: clouds rolling down the mountain, one by one, or so it seems. We are halfway between a drizzle and a mist, down here, and the humidity is carrying the smell of the woods and the moss, and the mineral scent of the mountain.

July 11th We report, about cirrus uncinus; the cold heights of our atmosphere, where ice clouds form, curl up and rise with the temperature variations of the air. There is a jet stream shaping these cirrus formations with great force and speed. It is a bright summer day, down here.

July 11th

We report, about cirrus uncinus; the cold heights of our atmosphere, where ice clouds form, curl up and rise with the temperature variations of the air. There is a jet stream shaping these cirrus formations with great force and speed. It is a bright summer day, down here.

July 12th We report: we wonder what hides in the shadows of these burnt clouds, where the sun cannot reach any longer. The day has exhausted its light at last, and we are making our way back home under tall towers of bubbling steam.

July 12th

We report: we wonder what hides in the shadows of these burnt clouds, where the sun cannot reach any longer. The day has exhausted its light at last, and we are making our way back home under tall towers of bubbling steam.

July 13th We report no stars tonight; the moon is peeking in and out from behind the clouds, as though surging from the void. This full moon is dark and quiet, and the night is unusually cold for this time of the year. The grass is damp and the humidity has soaked through our canvas shoes.

July 13th

We report no stars tonight; the moon is peeking in and out from behind the clouds, as though surging from the void. This full moon is dark and quiet, and the night is unusually cold for this time of the year. The grass is damp and the humidity has soaked through our canvas shoes.

July 14th We report that sometimes, the sun leaves its tendrils suspended in the sky, to dissipate over a long time. Some lingering warmth and some light frozen in the steam. The way we look at it, at least - this is a little bit to last for ages in our mind.

July 14th

We report that sometimes, the sun leaves its tendrils suspended in the sky, to dissipate over a long time. Some lingering warmth and some light frozen in the steam. The way we look at it, at least - this is a little bit to last for ages in our mind.

July 15th We report: mid-July, a day in mid-summer like a drop in the ocean. A long time ago, there were days in summer that seemed untethered. We would wake up late, but the day would be longer than any other day, as though we were conjuring up new hours, inventing time out of thin air.

July 15th

We report: mid-July, a day in mid-summer like a drop in the ocean. A long time ago, there were days in summer that seemed untethered. We would wake up late, but the day would be longer than any other day, as though we were conjuring up new hours, inventing time out of thin air.

July 16th We report, early in the morning, lately: there is a sunspot that moves across our pillow for one full hour, slow and patient, until it reaches our eyes. That is how we wake up, these days. This morning, in particular, the sky seemed so big when we looked through the window.

July 16th

We report, early in the morning, lately: there is a sunspot that moves across our pillow for one full hour, slow and patient, until it reaches our eyes. That is how we wake up, these days. This morning, in particular, the sky seemed so big when we looked through the window.

July 17th We report: we had a strange dream. We called our expert to tell them about it but by the time they picked up the phone, there were only short bursts of light and colours remaining. We kept talking through dawn in hushed tones and fell back asleep when the birds started singing.

July 17th

We report: we had a strange dream. We called our expert to tell them about it but by the time they picked up the phone, there were only short bursts of light and colours remaining. We kept talking through dawn in hushed tones and fell back asleep when the birds started singing.

July 18th We report, as the sky erupts in vibrant colours in the last moments of the day, most of the summer heat is starting to lift from the city. The asphalt is still radiating warmth. The streets smell like brake dust and exhaust fumes. We can feel a light breeze starting to blow.

July 18th

We report, as the sky erupts in vibrant colours in the last moments of the day, most of the summer heat is starting to lift from the city. The asphalt is still radiating warmth. The streets smell like brake dust and exhaust fumes. We can feel a light breeze starting to blow.

July 19th We report: some clouds grow in the sky the way moss takes over a forest. At a slow pace, with purpose; a great enterprise that leads to the creation of an intricate lattice. This will not last though, this weaving will fade back into blue soon - the fate of clouds.

July 19th

We report: some clouds grow in the sky the way moss takes over a forest. At a slow pace, with purpose; a great enterprise that leads to the creation of an intricate lattice. This will not last though, this weaving will fade back into blue soon - the fate of clouds.

July 20th We report, above the dark sea, the clouds are weighing heavy and starting to fray at the edges - our expert tells us these are called pannus, or scud clouds. We heard thunder earlier, and we can certainly feel the beginning of a good rain shower.

July 20th

We report, above the dark sea, the clouds are weighing heavy and starting to fray at the edges - our expert tells us these are called pannus, or scud clouds. We heard thunder earlier, and we can certainly feel the beginning of a good rain shower.

July 21st We report: tonight, our expert asked us, "Hey, what's this?" and when we looked at the direction in which they were pointing, we replied, "You mean, the moon?" and they said, "The what, now?". We still have not determined whether this was a joke or not. We are worried it was not.

July 21st

We report: tonight, our expert asked us, "Hey, what's this?" and when we looked at the direction in which they were pointing, we replied, "You mean, the moon?" and they said, "The what, now?". We still have not determined whether this was a joke or not. We are worried it was not.

July 22nd We report, this morning, in the way the sunlight grazed the clouds on its way down, we felt a little bit of peace. It did not last very long when we walked underneath some trees and got some dew in our eye, but the day went on as it began, slow and easy.

July 22nd

We report, this morning, in the way the sunlight grazed the clouds on its way down, we felt a little bit of peace. It did not last very long when we walked underneath some trees and got some dew in our eye, but the day went on as it began, slow and easy.

July 23rd We report: the way it is with thunderstorms, sometimes they appear out of nowhere, and other times they build, and build. Then, we are expecting it to happen at any moment, and we stay tense, and the air feels like it is about to catch on fire; until, finally, lightning strikes.

July 23rd

We report: the way it is with thunderstorms, sometimes they appear out of nowhere, and other times they build, and build. Then, we are expecting it to happen at any moment, and we stay tense, and the air feels like it is about to catch on fire; until, finally, lightning strikes.

July 24th We report: every day spent looking at clouds, we are applying a magnifying glass to life. We lean in closer to the shapes and the colors. We feel a kinship with clouds, and by naming them, we feel as though we are respecting that kinship. Our made-up names for puffs of steam.

July 24th

We report: every day spent looking at clouds, we are applying a magnifying glass to life. We lean in closer to the shapes and the colors. We feel a kinship with clouds, and by naming them, we feel as though we are respecting that kinship. Our made-up names for puffs of steam.

July 25th We report, today, we thought it was yesterday; or rather, we slept the whole day through without realising. When we woke up, the sun had already gone down, and we had not done any of what we had planned. We panicked for a bit, but in the end, the world did not end -  a relief.

July 25th

We report, today, we thought it was yesterday; or rather, we slept the whole day through without realising. When we woke up, the sun had already gone down, and we had not done any of what we had planned. We panicked for a bit, but in the end, the world did not end -  a relief.

July 26th We report: we remember laying down on the floor of our apartment, with the window wide open (a few flies had come in, not all had come back out). We remember putting on a jazz album; from where we lay, we could see just enough of the sky. The sun was filling our room to the brim.

July 26th

We report: we remember laying down on the floor of our apartment, with the window wide open (a few flies had come in, not all had come back out). We remember putting on a jazz album; from where we lay, we could see just enough of the sky. The sun was filling our room to the brim.

July 27th We report from under the sky: it is quite windy down here, and we can tell that it is not any less lively up there. We are trying to understand where the clouds are going, but we have observed a rather interesting dismantling that does not offer any direction in particular.

July 27th

We report from under the sky: it is quite windy down here, and we can tell that it is not any less lively up there. We are trying to understand where the clouds are going, but we have observed a rather interesting dismantling that does not offer any direction in particular.

July 28th We report news from the dawn: during the night, we managed to convince ourselves that the sun was not going to rise, that this was it. We were quite sad, too. We were mistaken, though; the night is spilling out from the sky. A new day is afoot. We are returning to the world.

July 28th

We report news from the dawn: during the night, we managed to convince ourselves that the sun was not going to rise, that this was it. We were quite sad, too. We were mistaken, though; the night is spilling out from the sky. A new day is afoot. We are returning to the world.

July 29th We report: we have a habit of taking great pains to describe sunsets to our expert - the colours, the shapes of the clouds, how long it took for the last bit of sunshine to fade. Tonight, though, we decided to tell the sunset about our expert, while they sat quietly next to us.

July 29th

We report: we have a habit of taking great pains to describe sunsets to our expert - the colours, the shapes of the clouds, how long it took for the last bit of sunshine to fade. Tonight, though, we decided to tell the sunset about our expert, while they sat quietly next to us.

July 30th We report, in this place, we are taking notice of a distinct lack of rain. The grass has turned brown, except for the spots where lawnmowers cannot reach easily. We are placing high hopes on this single, small white cloud (but we are not ready to take off our sunhat yet).

July 30th

We report, in this place, we are taking notice of a distinct lack of rain. The grass has turned brown, except for the spots where lawnmowers cannot reach easily. We are placing high hopes on this single, small white cloud (but we are not ready to take off our sunhat yet).

July 31st We report: there are heavy curtains of rain slowly moving from West to East over the looming mountains in the distance. The thick layers of clouds above are barely letting any light through. We are facing an early end to this day.

July 31st

We report: there are heavy curtains of rain slowly moving from West to East over the looming mountains in the distance. The thick layers of clouds above are barely letting any light through. We are facing an early end to this day.

  • 1

    July 1st

    We report a golden hour that swept over this field, now lingering at the edge of the woods. There are sparrows flying high over the trees, chattering loudly, and over here, the grass is still a little bit warm from the afternoon sun.

  • 2

    July 2nd

    We report: this is one of the other ways in which summer gets hot, not from the blazing sun but from sizzling electricity traveling through the clouds. We have never seen lightning strike anything from up close, but we still feel that primordial awe at the flash and thunder.

  • 3

    July 3rd

    We report, this evening, as the sky changed quickly and the humidity permeated the air, we heard some rustling in the bushes near us. We turned carefully and saw some deers in the clearing; it seems that we were downwind, because we were able to observe them for a long time.

  • 4

    July 4th

    We report: a rising moon crescent, 27% of visibility, five days old. We forgot where we were supposed to look for the moon in the night sky, and we spun around for a while. We are feeling a little bit dizzy, but we found the moon.

  • 5

    July 5th

    We report, this summer day, the sun is so bright today, whites out everything else. We stepped out and tried to look at the sky through squinting eyes, and only got a vague idea of what the clouds were like; but then their impression stayed on our retinas wherever we looked.

  • 6

    July 6th

    We report: here on this beach, we are thinking about the lofty pursuits of the ocean, nibbling at the sandy coast every day, with infinite patience. We hope to take a little bit of it home whenever we come here.

  • 7

    July 7th

    We report the clouds, tonight, the colour of pomegranate, the sky was stained, spilling out. When we turned to our expert to point it out, their eyes and hair reflected the sky; there was a rosy glow on their face. There was a sweet smell in the air, or maybe we imagined it.

  • 8

    July 8th

    We report: there was a breeze in the morning that grew ever stronger throughout the day, confusing the clouds into sinuous shapes up in the sky, and swaying the poppies and the bugs down here. Now, the rustling of the grass and the howling of the wind are filling our ears.

  • 9

    July 9th

    We report, after this warm, cloudless day: we witnessed a flight of bats overhead as the sky darkened and the temperature slowly dropped. There was the sound of their wings flapping; and then we saw them, a large group leaving for the night, maybe more than a hundred of them.

  • 10

    July 10th

    We report: clouds rolling down the mountain, one by one, or so it seems. We are halfway between a drizzle and a mist, down here, and the humidity is carrying the smell of the woods and the moss, and the mineral scent of the mountain.

  • 11

    July 11th

    We report, about cirrus uncinus; the cold heights of our atmosphere, where ice clouds form, curl up and rise with the temperature variations of the air. There is a jet stream shaping these cirrus formations with great force and speed. It is a bright summer day, down here.

  • 12

    July 12th

    We report: we wonder what hides in the shadows of these burnt clouds, where the sun cannot reach any longer. The day has exhausted its light at last, and we are making our way back home under tall towers of bubbling steam.

  • 13

    July 13th

    We report no stars tonight; the moon is peeking in and out from behind the clouds, as though surging from the void. This full moon is dark and quiet, and the night is unusually cold for this time of the year. The grass is damp and the humidity has soaked through our canvas shoes.

  • 14

    July 14th

    We report that sometimes, the sun leaves its tendrils suspended in the sky, to dissipate over a long time. Some lingering warmth and some light frozen in the steam. The way we look at it, at least - this is a little bit to last for ages in our mind.

  • 15

    July 15th

    We report: mid-July, a day in mid-summer like a drop in the ocean. A long time ago, there were days in summer that seemed untethered. We would wake up late, but the day would be longer than any other day, as though we were conjuring up new hours, inventing time out of thin air.

  • 16

    July 16th

    We report, early in the morning, lately: there is a sunspot that moves across our pillow for one full hour, slow and patient, until it reaches our eyes. That is how we wake up, these days. This morning, in particular, the sky seemed so big when we looked through the window.

  • 17

    July 17th

    We report: we had a strange dream. We called our expert to tell them about it but by the time they picked up the phone, there were only short bursts of light and colours remaining. We kept talking through dawn in hushed tones and fell back asleep when the birds started singing.

  • 18

    July 18th

    We report, as the sky erupts in vibrant colours in the last moments of the day, most of the summer heat is starting to lift from the city. The asphalt is still radiating warmth. The streets smell like brake dust and exhaust fumes. We can feel a light breeze starting to blow.

  • 19

    July 19th

    We report: some clouds grow in the sky the way moss takes over a forest. At a slow pace, with purpose; a great enterprise that leads to the creation of an intricate lattice. This will not last though, this weaving will fade back into blue soon - the fate of clouds.

  • 20

    July 20th

    We report, above the dark sea, the clouds are weighing heavy and starting to fray at the edges - our expert tells us these are called pannus, or scud clouds. We heard thunder earlier, and we can certainly feel the beginning of a good rain shower.

  • 21

    July 21st

    We report: tonight, our expert asked us, "Hey, what's this?" and when we looked at the direction in which they were pointing, we replied, "You mean, the moon?" and they said, "The what, now?". We still have not determined whether this was a joke or not. We are worried it was not.

  • 22

    July 22nd

    We report, this morning, in the way the sunlight grazed the clouds on its way down, we felt a little bit of peace. It did not last very long when we walked underneath some trees and got some dew in our eye, but the day went on as it began, slow and easy.

  • 23

    July 23rd

    We report: the way it is with thunderstorms, sometimes they appear out of nowhere, and other times they build, and build. Then, we are expecting it to happen at any moment, and we stay tense, and the air feels like it is about to catch on fire; until, finally, lightning strikes.

  • 24

    July 24th

    We report: every day spent looking at clouds, we are applying a magnifying glass to life. We lean in closer to the shapes and the colors. We feel a kinship with clouds, and by naming them, we feel as though we are respecting that kinship. Our made-up names for puffs of steam.

  • 25

    July 25th

    We report, today, we thought it was yesterday; or rather, we slept the whole day through without realising. When we woke up, the sun had already gone down, and we had not done any of what we had planned. We panicked for a bit, but in the end, the world did not end -  a relief.

  • 26

    July 26th

    We report: we remember laying down on the floor of our apartment, with the window wide open (a few flies had come in, not all had come back out). We remember putting on a jazz album; from where we lay, we could see just enough of the sky. The sun was filling our room to the brim.

  • 27

    July 27th

    We report from under the sky: it is quite windy down here, and we can tell that it is not any less lively up there. We are trying to understand where the clouds are going, but we have observed a rather interesting dismantling that does not offer any direction in particular.

  • 28

    July 28th

    We report news from the dawn: during the night, we managed to convince ourselves that the sun was not going to rise, that this was it. We were quite sad, too. We were mistaken, though; the night is spilling out from the sky. A new day is afoot. We are returning to the world.

  • 29

    July 29th

    We report: we have a habit of taking great pains to describe sunsets to our expert - the colours, the shapes of the clouds, how long it took for the last bit of sunshine to fade. Tonight, though, we decided to tell the sunset about our expert, while they sat quietly next to us.

  • 30

    July 30th

    We report, in this place, we are taking notice of a distinct lack of rain. The grass has turned brown, except for the spots where lawnmowers cannot reach easily. We are placing high hopes on this single, small white cloud (but we are not ready to take off our sunhat yet).

  • 31

    July 31st

    We report: there are heavy curtains of rain slowly moving from West to East over the looming mountains in the distance. The thick layers of clouds above are barely letting any light through. We are facing an early end to this day.

July 2022

June 1st We report a late afternoon spent looking at the sunlight crashing against the waves. It is another type of blue out here, not much more tangible than the blue of the sky, no less deep, but its call sounds different.

June 1st

We report a late afternoon spent looking at the sunlight crashing against the waves. It is another type of blue out here, not much more tangible than the blue of the sky, no less deep, but its call sounds different.

June 2nd We report: it is June, now, a foot still in Spring, and the other one already in Summer. There are all sorts of bugs flying around, butterflies and bumblebees zooming past us every time we step outside, and the days are long, long, ending almost as a mere afterthought.

June 2nd

We report: it is June, now, a foot still in Spring, and the other one already in Summer. There are all sorts of bugs flying around, butterflies and bumblebees zooming past us every time we step outside, and the days are long, long, ending almost as a mere afterthought.

June 3rd We report a storm, oncoming lightning, and rolling thunder somewhere. It is moving towards us, and there is nothing we can do to predict where lightning will strike exactly, but we have decided that we want no part in this. We are not staying for the rain.

June 3rd

We report a storm, oncoming lightning, and rolling thunder somewhere. It is moving towards us, and there is nothing we can do to predict where lightning will strike exactly, but we have decided that we want no part in this. We are not staying for the rain.

June 4th We report: before we fall asleep, we always picture something like this, the darkness sweeping in, cold, slow, and quiet. And in our dreams, if we are ever visited by stars, then it is a good night - in the fabric of the night sky, to see pinholes of light, a good night indeed.

June 4th

We report: before we fall asleep, we always picture something like this, the darkness sweeping in, cold, slow, and quiet. And in our dreams, if we are ever visited by stars, then it is a good night - in the fabric of the night sky, to see pinholes of light, a good night indeed.

June 5th We report strange days, unpredictable weather. Our expert tells us about high temperatures and cloudless skies, and it rains all day long - and today, there was supposed to be fog in the morning, and showers, and thunder, even. But here we are, this is the cloudiest it got.

June 5th

We report strange days, unpredictable weather. Our expert tells us about high temperatures and cloudless skies, and it rains all day long - and today, there was supposed to be fog in the morning, and showers, and thunder, even. But here we are, this is the cloudiest it got.

June 6th We report: there were towering clouds here, earlier, taller than all of the buildings of the city piled up on top of one another. Over the course of the afternoon, though, with the wind flowing up and around them: it was like a river polishing pebbles, mountains becoming hills.

June 6th

We report: there were towering clouds here, earlier, taller than all of the buildings of the city piled up on top of one another. Over the course of the afternoon, though, with the wind flowing up and around them: it was like a river polishing pebbles, mountains becoming hills.

June 7th We report rains heavy enough to drag the clouds down with them, and loud enough that we struggle to make conversation with our expert. There is not much wind; we are pulling the hood of our raincoat low over our head, which is making it hard to look up to the dark skies.

June 7th

We report rains heavy enough to drag the clouds down with them, and loud enough that we struggle to make conversation with our expert. There is not much wind; we are pulling the hood of our raincoat low over our head, which is making it hard to look up to the dark skies.

June 8th We report: parts of the universe that we can only ever see at night (during a clear night, to be perfectly precise), spilled out onto a dark velvet sky, and with a little bit of a breeze, we almost think we can hear some chimes in the deep.

June 8th

We report: parts of the universe that we can only ever see at night (during a clear night, to be perfectly precise), spilled out onto a dark velvet sky, and with a little bit of a breeze, we almost think we can hear some chimes in the deep.

June 9th We report the kind of windy day when the wind is shearing straight through clouds, losing bits everywhere - even the rain was too scattered to fall properly, one drop here and one drop on the other side of the street. The sky is messy and we cannot seem to make sense of it.

June 9th

We report the kind of windy day when the wind is shearing straight through clouds, losing bits everywhere - even the rain was too scattered to fall properly, one drop here and one drop on the other side of the street. The sky is messy and we cannot seem to make sense of it.

June 10th We report TONIGHT... Northwest wind 10 to 20 knots easing to 10 knots after midnight. Wind waves 1 to 3 feet subsiding to 1 foot or less after midnight. Southwest swell 5 feet at 10 seconds. Patchy fog on the ground. A slight chance of rain.

June 10th

We report TONIGHT... Northwest wind 10 to 20 knots easing to 10 knots after midnight. Wind waves 1 to 3 feet subsiding to 1 foot or less after midnight. Southwest swell 5 feet at 10 seconds. Patchy fog on the ground. A slight chance of rain.

June 11th We report: this was a hot day, the beach's sand burning the sole of our feet with the heat of the high sun. Slowly, though, a few clouds came in from the horizon, and the temperature started dropping. The sky is now heavy with yet-to-fall rain, and the wind is rising.

June 11th

We report: this was a hot day, the beach's sand burning the sole of our feet with the heat of the high sun. Slowly, though, a few clouds came in from the horizon, and the temperature started dropping. The sky is now heavy with yet-to-fall rain, and the wind is rising.

June 12th We report a golden afternoon, the scent of warm, dry grass in the air, and a naked sky. There are clouds of dust floating above the paths. We are carrying a bag of apricots with us, and we are looking for a spot where we could sit and share them.

June 12th

We report a golden afternoon, the scent of warm, dry grass in the air, and a naked sky. There are clouds of dust floating above the paths. We are carrying a bag of apricots with us, and we are looking for a spot where we could sit and share them.

June 13th We report: it was a rather small hour in the morning still when the sky started to lighten, drops of light spreading through the clouds like watercolours. We were eager to catch a little bit more sleep after sunrise, and we kept dozing off as the birds chirped louder and louder.

June 13th

We report: it was a rather small hour in the morning still when the sky started to lighten, drops of light spreading through the clouds like watercolours. We were eager to catch a little bit more sleep after sunrise, and we kept dozing off as the birds chirped louder and louder.

June 14th We report a particular day of summer, one when the sky went through all shades of blue, and the clouds were kind enough to let us see them. Now, we are witnessing the lightest shade of the day, the blue fading away entirely as we take it in.

June 14th

We report a particular day of summer, one when the sky went through all shades of blue, and the clouds were kind enough to let us see them. Now, we are witnessing the lightest shade of the day, the blue fading away entirely as we take it in.

June 15th We report: in the long parts of long days, grey clouds that curl at their edges are like moments frozen in time; no wind today. We are wondering if this is it: nothing will ever change again. This is the sky, forever like this, now (and then comes a breeze).

June 15th

We report: in the long parts of long days, grey clouds that curl at their edges are like moments frozen in time; no wind today. We are wondering if this is it: nothing will ever change again. This is the sky, forever like this, now (and then comes a breeze).

June 16th We report, on this day of June; we left our laundry to dry outside overnight, and when we retrieved it during the afternoon, it was warm and smelled like sunshine. Our expert got cobwebs in their hair while trying to grab the bedsheets. The clouds kept growing apart.

June 16th

We report, on this day of June; we left our laundry to dry outside overnight, and when we retrieved it during the afternoon, it was warm and smelled like sunshine. Our expert got cobwebs in their hair while trying to grab the bedsheets. The clouds kept growing apart.

June 17th We report: we opened the window to watch the sunset, and the light in the kitchen lured in some moths. It is a calm evening; lately, by the time the sun disappears behind the hills, most people have long been home.

June 17th

We report: we opened the window to watch the sunset, and the light in the kitchen lured in some moths. It is a calm evening; lately, by the time the sun disappears behind the hills, most people have long been home.

June 18th We report a few gleams of sunshine, nothing like the blaze that we have had lately but just this, a little bit of golden light raining down through thick layers of clouds. Soon it will rain water again - much needed during this dry season, but we are not forgotten by the sun.

June 18th

We report a few gleams of sunshine, nothing like the blaze that we have had lately but just this, a little bit of golden light raining down through thick layers of clouds. Soon it will rain water again - much needed during this dry season, but we are not forgotten by the sun.

June 19th We report: a darkness, something of an immanence, most of everything and all of nothing too. During the night, when time stretches and there is no sleep to be found (and no sun), we think we can almost touch a soul in the stars - but perhaps we are simply sleep-deprived.

June 19th

We report: a darkness, something of an immanence, most of everything and all of nothing too. During the night, when time stretches and there is no sleep to be found (and no sun), we think we can almost touch a soul in the stars - but perhaps we are simply sleep-deprived.

June 20th We report a thunderstorm that skirted around the town. We counted the seconds between lightning and thunder on our fingers, trying to do the math to determine how close the storm was, until there was no lightning. Then, the thunder too boiled down to a low rumble in the distance.

June 20th

We report a thunderstorm that skirted around the town. We counted the seconds between lightning and thunder on our fingers, trying to do the math to determine how close the storm was, until there was no lightning. Then, the thunder too boiled down to a low rumble in the distance.

June 21st We report: today is as long of a day as it gets on this hemisphere of our planet (and then, as short of a night, too). We contemplate this fact with the knowledge that it does not change much about our day, but we still think that we can feel it somehow.

June 21st

We report: today is as long of a day as it gets on this hemisphere of our planet (and then, as short of a night, too). We contemplate this fact with the knowledge that it does not change much about our day, but we still think that we can feel it somehow.

June 22nd We report: we are taking notes on the colour stages of a sunset. We have gone through yellow and orange, so far, and if our previous observations hold any truth, we are heading towards pink and purple. Good, solid colours (no green or cyan, so far, but we are holding out).

June 22nd

We report: we are taking notes on the colour stages of a sunset. We have gone through yellow and orange, so far, and if our previous observations hold any truth, we are heading towards pink and purple. Good, solid colours (no green or cyan, so far, but we are holding out).

June 23rd We report noctilucent clouds, the highest clouds in Earth's atmosphere. Their altitudes may vary between  76 and 85 km, and our expert tells us that the Kármán line, where space begins, is 100 km above sea level. These clouds are catching the light that we are not seeing anymore.

June 23rd

We report noctilucent clouds, the highest clouds in Earth's atmosphere. Their altitudes may vary between  76 and 85 km, and our expert tells us that the Kármán line, where space begins, is 100 km above sea level. These clouds are catching the light that we are not seeing anymore.

June 24th We report: it is morning, though it is hard to tell how high the sun has gotten. There is no wind to speak of; this wall of clouds is closing in on us at a slow pace, and the tide is coming in the same movement. The world is waking up through heavy eyelids.

June 24th

We report: it is morning, though it is hard to tell how high the sun has gotten. There is no wind to speak of; this wall of clouds is closing in on us at a slow pace, and the tide is coming in the same movement. The world is waking up through heavy eyelids.

June 25th We report a great big sky with cirrus sprawling across the whole of it. The air is light, just a little bit humid from recent rain. Today is colder than the weather we have been having lately (also due to recent rain), something of a last spring day in our summer's beginning.

June 25th

We report a great big sky with cirrus sprawling across the whole of it. The air is light, just a little bit humid from recent rain. Today is colder than the weather we have been having lately (also due to recent rain), something of a last spring day in our summer's beginning.

June 26th We report: we have been taking evening walks, lately. We have been seeing wheat fields coming into maturity, with crickets chirping between the stems. There is an unmistakable smell that speaks of warm days even as they cool down in the evening, of dry soil and growing grains.  

June 26th

We report: we have been taking evening walks, lately. We have been seeing wheat fields coming into maturity, with crickets chirping between the stems. There is an unmistakable smell that speaks of warm days even as they cool down in the evening, of dry soil and growing grains.

 

June 27th We report, last night: all of the lights went out, and for a few minutes, we were in absolute darkness, stumbling on our own feet with every step we took. At some point, though, we started noticing stars, and then we could not stop noticing them, even through the clouds.

June 27th

We report, last night: all of the lights went out, and for a few minutes, we were in absolute darkness, stumbling on our own feet with every step we took. At some point, though, we started noticing stars, and then we could not stop noticing them, even through the clouds.

June 28th We report a windy day with frequent showers and braided clouds. We found cover under a leaky gutter pipe and we are trying to stay clear of the rivulets of rainwater that keep splashing our shoulders. The cars seem to be driving into puddles on purpose. This is a good day.

June 28th

We report a windy day with frequent showers and braided clouds. We found cover under a leaky gutter pipe and we are trying to stay clear of the rivulets of rainwater that keep splashing our shoulders. The cars seem to be driving into puddles on purpose. This is a good day.

June 29th We report, today: our expert swore to us that they had seen these clouds before, that they remembered these exact shapes. We argued over the truth of this statement for a long time, but they maintained that they were not lying. The truth will never be known.

June 29th

We report, today: our expert swore to us that they had seen these clouds before, that they remembered these exact shapes. We argued over the truth of this statement for a long time, but they maintained that they were not lying. The truth will never be known.

June 30th We report: this was a sleepless night, an unintentional one. We tried going to sleep, but we lay down and our heart felt too heavy, made us sink too far into the bed, and kept us awake. When we finally managed to get back up, the sun was just rising behind blue clouds.

June 30th

We report: this was a sleepless night, an unintentional one. We tried going to sleep, but we lay down and our heart felt too heavy, made us sink too far into the bed, and kept us awake. When we finally managed to get back up, the sun was just rising behind blue clouds.

  • 1

    June 1st

    We report a late afternoon spent looking at the sunlight crashing against the waves. It is another type of blue out here, not much more tangible than the blue of the sky, no less deep, but its call sounds different.

  • 2

    June 2nd

    We report: it is June, now, a foot still in Spring, and the other one already in Summer. There are all sorts of bugs flying around, butterflies and bumblebees zooming past us every time we step outside, and the days are long, long, ending almost as a mere afterthought.

  • 3

    June 3rd

    We report a storm, oncoming lightning, and rolling thunder somewhere. It is moving towards us, and there is nothing we can do to predict where lightning will strike exactly, but we have decided that we want no part in this. We are not staying for the rain.

  • 4

    June 4th

    We report: before we fall asleep, we always picture something like this, the darkness sweeping in, cold, slow, and quiet. And in our dreams, if we are ever visited by stars, then it is a good night - in the fabric of the night sky, to see pinholes of light, a good night indeed.

  • 5

    June 5th

    We report strange days, unpredictable weather. Our expert tells us about high temperatures and cloudless skies, and it rains all day long - and today, there was supposed to be fog in the morning, and showers, and thunder, even. But here we are, this is the cloudiest it got.

  • 6

    June 6th

    We report: there were towering clouds here, earlier, taller than all of the buildings of the city piled up on top of one another. Over the course of the afternoon, though, with the wind flowing up and around them: it was like a river polishing pebbles, mountains becoming hills.

  • 7

    June 7th

    We report rains heavy enough to drag the clouds down with them, and loud enough that we struggle to make conversation with our expert. There is not much wind; we are pulling the hood of our raincoat low over our head, which is making it hard to look up to the dark skies.

  • 8

    June 8th

    We report: parts of the universe that we can only ever see at night (during a clear night, to be perfectly precise), spilled out onto a dark velvet sky, and with a little bit of a breeze, we almost think we can hear some chimes in the deep.

  • 9

    June 9th

    We report the kind of windy day when the wind is shearing straight through clouds, losing bits everywhere - even the rain was too scattered to fall properly, one drop here and one drop on the other side of the street. The sky is messy and we cannot seem to make sense of it.

  • 10

    June 10th

    We report TONIGHT... Northwest wind 10 to 20 knots easing to 10 knots after midnight. Wind waves 1 to 3 feet subsiding to 1 foot or less after midnight. Southwest swell 5 feet at 10 seconds. Patchy fog on the ground. A slight chance of rain.

  • 11

    June 11th

    We report: this was a hot day, the beach's sand burning the sole of our feet with the heat of the high sun. Slowly, though, a few clouds came in from the horizon, and the temperature started dropping. The sky is now heavy with yet-to-fall rain, and the wind is rising.

  • 12

    June 12th

    We report a golden afternoon, the scent of warm, dry grass in the air, and a naked sky. There are clouds of dust floating above the paths. We are carrying a bag of apricots with us, and we are looking for a spot where we could sit and share them.

  • 13

    June 13th

    We report: it was a rather small hour in the morning still when the sky started to lighten, drops of light spreading through the clouds like watercolours. We were eager to catch a little bit more sleep after sunrise, and we kept dozing off as the birds chirped louder and louder.

  • 14

    June 14th

    We report a particular day of summer, one when the sky went through all shades of blue, and the clouds were kind enough to let us see them. Now, we are witnessing the lightest shade of the day, the blue fading away entirely as we take it in.

  • 15

    June 15th

    We report: in the long parts of long days, grey clouds that curl at their edges are like moments frozen in time; no wind today. We are wondering if this is it: nothing will ever change again. This is the sky, forever like this, now (and then comes a breeze).

  • 16

    June 16th

    We report, on this day of June; we left our laundry to dry outside overnight, and when we retrieved it during the afternoon, it was warm and smelled like sunshine. Our expert got cobwebs in their hair while trying to grab the bedsheets. The clouds kept growing apart.

  • 17

    June 17th

    We report: we opened the window to watch the sunset, and the light in the kitchen lured in some moths. It is a calm evening; lately, by the time the sun disappears behind the hills, most people have long been home.

  • 18

    June 18th

    We report a few gleams of sunshine, nothing like the blaze that we have had lately but just this, a little bit of golden light raining down through thick layers of clouds. Soon it will rain water again - much needed during this dry season, but we are not forgotten by the sun.

  • 19

    June 19th

    We report: a darkness, something of an immanence, most of everything and all of nothing too. During the night, when time stretches and there is no sleep to be found (and no sun), we think we can almost touch a soul in the stars - but perhaps we are simply sleep-deprived.

  • 20

    June 20th

    We report a thunderstorm that skirted around the town. We counted the seconds between lightning and thunder on our fingers, trying to do the math to determine how close the storm was, until there was no lightning. Then, the thunder too boiled down to a low rumble in the distance.

  • 21

    June 21st

    We report: today is as long of a day as it gets on this hemisphere of our planet (and then, as short of a night, too). We contemplate this fact with the knowledge that it does not change much about our day, but we still think that we can feel it somehow.

  • 22

    June 22nd

    We report: we are taking notes on the colour stages of a sunset. We have gone through yellow and orange, so far, and if our previous observations hold any truth, we are heading towards pink and purple. Good, solid colours (no green or cyan, so far, but we are holding out).

  • 23

    June 23rd

    We report noctilucent clouds, the highest clouds in Earth's atmosphere. Their altitudes may vary between  76 and 85 km, and our expert tells us that the Kármán line, where space begins, is 100 km above sea level. These clouds are catching the light that we are not seeing anymore.

  • 24

    June 24th

    We report: it is morning, though it is hard to tell how high the sun has gotten. There is no wind to speak of; this wall of clouds is closing in on us at a slow pace, and the tide is coming in the same movement. The world is waking up through heavy eyelids.

  • 25

    June 25th

    We report a great big sky with cirrus sprawling across the whole of it. The air is light, just a little bit humid from recent rain. Today is colder than the weather we have been having lately (also due to recent rain), something of a last spring day in our summer's beginning.

  • 26

    June 26th

    We report: we have been taking evening walks, lately. We have been seeing wheat fields coming into maturity, with crickets chirping between the stems. There is an unmistakable smell that speaks of warm days even as they cool down in the evening, of dry soil and growing grains.

     

  • 27

    June 27th

    We report, last night: all of the lights went out, and for a few minutes, we were in absolute darkness, stumbling on our own feet with every step we took. At some point, though, we started noticing stars, and then we could not stop noticing them, even through the clouds.

  • 28

    June 28th

    We report a windy day with frequent showers and braided clouds. We found cover under a leaky gutter pipe and we are trying to stay clear of the rivulets of rainwater that keep splashing our shoulders. The cars seem to be driving into puddles on purpose. This is a good day.

  • 29

    June 29th

    We report, today: our expert swore to us that they had seen these clouds before, that they remembered these exact shapes. We argued over the truth of this statement for a long time, but they maintained that they were not lying. The truth will never be known.

  • 30

    June 30th

    We report: this was a sleepless night, an unintentional one. We tried going to sleep, but we lay down and our heart felt too heavy, made us sink too far into the bed, and kept us awake. When we finally managed to get back up, the sun was just rising behind blue clouds.

June 2022

May 1st We report a rather large cloud made up of countless, much smaller clouds. Come to think of it, perhaps most clouds fit that description, but this one did provoke that line of thought to begin with.

May 1st

We report a rather large cloud made up of countless, much smaller clouds. Come to think of it, perhaps most clouds fit that description, but this one did provoke that line of thought to begin with.

May 2nd We report: this is one silent ship sailing across the sky, to the East. We see everything in its shadow meet an early night, plunged into obscurity. This was a dry day, rather warm, and the sunset is revealing a sudden humidity in the air which brings about a chill.

May 2nd

We report: this is one silent ship sailing across the sky, to the East. We see everything in its shadow meet an early night, plunged into obscurity. This was a dry day, rather warm, and the sunset is revealing a sudden humidity in the air which brings about a chill.

May 3rd We report that we found company along the way today. This is perhaps rude to say as we were already with company (our expert), but we bring our expert with us wherever we go. These birds are all in the process of flying away anyway.

May 3rd

We report that we found company along the way today. This is perhaps rude to say as we were already with company (our expert), but we bring our expert with us wherever we go. These birds are all in the process of flying away anyway.

May 4th We report: we looked out the window, expecting it to be fully night by now, but there was this whole corner of the sky that was still illuminated, between a roof and a tree. We took a moment to appreciate those last minutes of daylight, faint as it was.

May 4th

We report: we looked out the window, expecting it to be fully night by now, but there was this whole corner of the sky that was still illuminated, between a roof and a tree. We took a moment to appreciate those last minutes of daylight, faint as it was.

May 5th We report cirrus fibratus, a blur of icy clouds, like a long exposure picture of the flow of a river. The sun is shining bright and has us squinting every time we step outside - it stays high in the sky for a long while lately.  

May 5th

We report cirrus fibratus, a blur of icy clouds, like a long exposure picture of the flow of a river. The sun is shining bright and has us squinting every time we step outside - it stays high in the sky for a long while lately.

 

May 6th  We report: we were here last year, last month, last week, and even yesterday, and it was a different place every time. The sky went through highs and lows, the trees grew, there were waves and then the lake got quiet. And here we are, different but the same.

May 6th 

We report: we were here last year, last month, last week, and even yesterday, and it was a different place every time. The sky went through highs and lows, the trees grew, there were waves and then the lake got quiet. And here we are, different but the same.

May 7th We report, in a storm, a crystallisation of unspoken desires, in the crackles, the sound and light show that we were involuntary witnesses to. We have longed for a climactic moment, something to disrupt the tension, and the Sun has not been helpful in that.

May 7th

We report, in a storm, a crystallisation of unspoken desires, in the crackles, the sound and light show that we were involuntary witnesses to. We have longed for a climactic moment, something to disrupt the tension, and the Sun has not been helpful in that.

May 8th  We report: easy clouds, risen all the way from under the ground. All the sweeter for the wind carrying smells of spring, the soil, the trees, and the rain that had fallen in the morning. All the sweeter for how we were here and there was more time to stay here for a little bit.

May 8th 

We report: easy clouds, risen all the way from under the ground. All the sweeter for the wind carrying smells of spring, the soil, the trees, and the rain that had fallen in the morning. All the sweeter for how we were here and there was more time to stay here for a little bit.

May 9th We report that we are just a few days past the peak of the Eta Aquariids, which are associated with Halley's Comet. The comet is not anywhere near enough for us to see it (at least, not for another forty years or so), but we think fondly of it, speeding through the universe.

May 9th

We report that we are just a few days past the peak of the Eta Aquariids, which are associated with Halley's Comet. The comet is not anywhere near enough for us to see it (at least, not for another forty years or so), but we think fondly of it, speeding through the universe.

May 10th  We report: the sunrise is just about to appear out of the morning fog - as quiet as it looks, the countryside is being quite rambunctious for this dawn. There are birds making all sorts of noises, and the tall grass is rustling as we walk. Also, our expert is talking our ear off.

May 10th 

We report: the sunrise is just about to appear out of the morning fog - as quiet as it looks, the countryside is being quite rambunctious for this dawn. There are birds making all sorts of noises, and the tall grass is rustling as we walk. Also, our expert is talking our ear off.

May 11th We report a heavy sky, the whole day through, and yet, not a raindrop to be seen. There was that dim light that we usually know means rain; we kept getting close to the windows, squinting at the clouds that looked dense enough to burst. Perhaps it will rain tomorrow.

May 11th

We report a heavy sky, the whole day through, and yet, not a raindrop to be seen. There was that dim light that we usually know means rain; we kept getting close to the windows, squinting at the clouds that looked dense enough to burst. Perhaps it will rain tomorrow.

May 12th We report: we have been posted on top of a hill since sunrise, tasked with counting every single cloud of the day. This is cloud number one. It is almost stationary. It is small. There does not seem to be any sign of more clouds coming in. We are considering sleeping on the job.

May 12th

We report: we have been posted on top of a hill since sunrise, tasked with counting every single cloud of the day. This is cloud number one. It is almost stationary. It is small. There does not seem to be any sign of more clouds coming in. We are considering sleeping on the job.

May 13th We report: we are getting to the time of the year when the sky becomes very, very tall. Maybe there is a little bit of us getting smaller, but mostly, we stand there at the feet of giants, helpless, as they bloom upwards and outwards.

May 13th

We report: we are getting to the time of the year when the sky becomes very, very tall. Maybe there is a little bit of us getting smaller, but mostly, we stand there at the feet of giants, helpless, as they bloom upwards and outwards.

May 14th We report that the sky is brighter than it has been all day, minutes before nightfall. We could wonder — really, what use is this, what are we going to do with this extra bit of light now? We think, well, nothing much. This is just a sweet thing for this day.

May 14th

We report that the sky is brighter than it has been all day, minutes before nightfall. We could wonder — really, what use is this, what are we going to do with this extra bit of light now? We think, well, nothing much. This is just a sweet thing for this day.

May 15th We report: below the path we are walking along, there is a pond filled with frogs that we could hear from a long way, loud and clear in the dusk. We can barely see where we are walking at this point, so we are holding on to our expert's shoulder as we try to find our way home.

May 15th

We report: below the path we are walking along, there is a pond filled with frogs that we could hear from a long way, loud and clear in the dusk. We can barely see where we are walking at this point, so we are holding on to our expert's shoulder as we try to find our way home.

May 16th We report: it is early, and cold, and humid, too. We severely misjudged the weather when we left home, and we are dressed all wrong; the wind is picking up, and we think we even got a raindrop in our left eye. This is all fine, though. Nobody is forcing us to be out there, today.

May 16th

We report: it is early, and cold, and humid, too. We severely misjudged the weather when we left home, and we are dressed all wrong; the wind is picking up, and we think we even got a raindrop in our left eye. This is all fine, though. Nobody is forcing us to be out there, today.

May 17th We report, today, like most other days, that it is all about colours. It was all about blue, blue, blue all day,  and when we saw the red come in, we thought it would all be about purple tonight. But the colours kept on coming, dense and vibrant; lit up the whole sky.  

May 17th

We report, today, like most other days, that it is all about colours. It was all about blue, blue, blue all day,  and when we saw the red come in, we thought it would all be about purple tonight. But the colours kept on coming, dense and vibrant; lit up the whole sky.

 

May 18th We report: conditions uncertain, the whole sky is torn apart - the wind? Surely not, at least there is very little wind to feel from down here. We are trying to figure out what is happening up there exactly, but the clouds are already melting away, losing their intricate shapes.

May 18th

We report: conditions uncertain, the whole sky is torn apart - the wind? Surely not, at least there is very little wind to feel from down here. We are trying to figure out what is happening up there exactly, but the clouds are already melting away, losing their intricate shapes.

May 19th We report: we lay down in the grass on a hill, fell asleep, and woke up to find the sky in the wrong direction. We are having a hard time making the decision to get up. This seems like a good time to practice our ability to do nothing.

May 19th

We report: we lay down in the grass on a hill, fell asleep, and woke up to find the sky in the wrong direction. We are having a hard time making the decision to get up. This seems like a good time to practice our ability to do nothing.

May 20th We report, that lately, we have been looking to the sky to convince ourselves of the inevitability of change. Or rather, perhaps, of the good that may come out of it. It is good, we think, when the sky is different. And it is good even when we wanted it to stay the same.

May 20th

We report, that lately, we have been looking to the sky to convince ourselves of the inevitability of change. Or rather, perhaps, of the good that may come out of it. It is good, we think, when the sky is different. And it is good even when we wanted it to stay the same.

May 21st We report: we lived a whole day through, and when it came to an end, the sky started burning away at the edges. We sat helplessly, watching it turn shades of brown and orange from the fire that ran through from the East to the West.

May 21st

We report: we lived a whole day through, and when it came to an end, the sky started burning away at the edges. We sat helplessly, watching it turn shades of brown and orange from the fire that ran through from the East to the West.

May 22nd We report, these days, we look for the moon in the morning, first thing to appear from behind the clouds long before the sun rises. In fact, we could be looking for the moon at three in the morning, but we are not available at three in the morning, because that is when we sleep.

May 22nd

We report, these days, we look for the moon in the morning, first thing to appear from behind the clouds long before the sun rises. In fact, we could be looking for the moon at three in the morning, but we are not available at three in the morning, because that is when we sleep.

May 23rd We report: spring has been drier than expected, so far, and as we inch further into it, we relish dark skies and petrichor. From the drizzle to the showers and thunderstorm rains, we look downwards, hoping that the ground will drink it all and keep it there.

May 23rd

We report: spring has been drier than expected, so far, and as we inch further into it, we relish dark skies and petrichor. From the drizzle to the showers and thunderstorm rains, we look downwards, hoping that the ground will drink it all and keep it there.

May 24th We report, sometimes, we do get lost in the clouds, and there really is no way home to be found. Frankly, today, there is nowhere we would want to be but lost there, with the last sun rays trying to find a path in and around the clouds.

May 24th

We report, sometimes, we do get lost in the clouds, and there really is no way home to be found. Frankly, today, there is nowhere we would want to be but lost there, with the last sun rays trying to find a path in and around the clouds.

May 25th We report: the ferns have gotten tall on the hill, and some of the paths that we walked during the winter are no more, swallowed by the overgrowth. Others have opened in the tall grass, and we went to explore them in the still-long shadows of the morning. There was a lot of dew.

May 25th

We report: the ferns have gotten tall on the hill, and some of the paths that we walked during the winter are no more, swallowed by the overgrowth. Others have opened in the tall grass, and we went to explore them in the still-long shadows of the morning. There was a lot of dew.

May 26th We report, though sunsets do not seem to be stretching any longer than usual, the nights seem to take forever to settle, lately. There is a tinge of blue that remains in the dark of the night, and we can clearly see many of the clouds over the stars.

May 26th

We report, though sunsets do not seem to be stretching any longer than usual, the nights seem to take forever to settle, lately. There is a tinge of blue that remains in the dark of the night, and we can clearly see many of the clouds over the stars.

May 27th We report: today was very bright, maybe no more than the other days, but we certainly noticed how we kept getting sunshine in our eyes. We would close them and see the sun through our eyelids still. We never seemed to find shadows to walk into, followed by sunshine everywhere.

May 27th

We report: today was very bright, maybe no more than the other days, but we certainly noticed how we kept getting sunshine in our eyes. We would close them and see the sun through our eyelids still. We never seemed to find shadows to walk into, followed by sunshine everywhere.

May 28th We report: we can almost hear colours that are this loud. And this time, when we try to describe them to our expert over the phone, we choose words carefully, and though we inevitably fail to express the subtleties of this colour spectrum, we try again and again.

May 28th

We report: we can almost hear colours that are this loud. And this time, when we try to describe them to our expert over the phone, we choose words carefully, and though we inevitably fail to express the subtleties of this colour spectrum, we try again and again.

May 29th We report a windy day, out in the countryside the smell of flowers is heady and fills every bit of the air that we are breathing. When we walk in the woods, trying to keep our steps light so as to avoid scaring the birds, we hear songs bouncing from one branch to another.

May 29th

We report a windy day, out in the countryside the smell of flowers is heady and fills every bit of the air that we are breathing. When we walk in the woods, trying to keep our steps light so as to avoid scaring the birds, we hear songs bouncing from one branch to another.

May 30th We report: low skies and a steel grey, a few showers throughout the day. This is a part of spring that we do not think of as much, but these days when the sun is a rare sight, and the smell of earth lingers in the air feel like a good place to stop and rest for a while.

May 30th

We report: low skies and a steel grey, a few showers throughout the day. This is a part of spring that we do not think of as much, but these days when the sun is a rare sight, and the smell of earth lingers in the air feel like a good place to stop and rest for a while.

May 31st We report walking along a gravel road at nightfall, and though the day was warm - hot even when the sun was high, now that sky is getting dark, the air is getting cold with it. We are walking faster while keeping an eye on the horizon, and there are pebbles lining our shoes now.

May 31st

We report walking along a gravel road at nightfall, and though the day was warm - hot even when the sun was high, now that sky is getting dark, the air is getting cold with it. We are walking faster while keeping an eye on the horizon, and there are pebbles lining our shoes now.

  • 1

    May 1st

    We report a rather large cloud made up of countless, much smaller clouds. Come to think of it, perhaps most clouds fit that description, but this one did provoke that line of thought to begin with.

  • 2

    May 2nd

    We report: this is one silent ship sailing across the sky, to the East. We see everything in its shadow meet an early night, plunged into obscurity. This was a dry day, rather warm, and the sunset is revealing a sudden humidity in the air which brings about a chill.

  • 3

    May 3rd

    We report that we found company along the way today. This is perhaps rude to say as we were already with company (our expert), but we bring our expert with us wherever we go. These birds are all in the process of flying away anyway.

  • 4

    May 4th

    We report: we looked out the window, expecting it to be fully night by now, but there was this whole corner of the sky that was still illuminated, between a roof and a tree. We took a moment to appreciate those last minutes of daylight, faint as it was.

  • 5

    May 5th

    We report cirrus fibratus, a blur of icy clouds, like a long exposure picture of the flow of a river. The sun is shining bright and has us squinting every time we step outside - it stays high in the sky for a long while lately.

     

  • 6

    May 6th 

    We report: we were here last year, last month, last week, and even yesterday, and it was a different place every time. The sky went through highs and lows, the trees grew, there were waves and then the lake got quiet. And here we are, different but the same.

  • 7

    May 7th

    We report, in a storm, a crystallisation of unspoken desires, in the crackles, the sound and light show that we were involuntary witnesses to. We have longed for a climactic moment, something to disrupt the tension, and the Sun has not been helpful in that.

  • 8

    May 8th 

    We report: easy clouds, risen all the way from under the ground. All the sweeter for the wind carrying smells of spring, the soil, the trees, and the rain that had fallen in the morning. All the sweeter for how we were here and there was more time to stay here for a little bit.

  • 9

    May 9th

    We report that we are just a few days past the peak of the Eta Aquariids, which are associated with Halley's Comet. The comet is not anywhere near enough for us to see it (at least, not for another forty years or so), but we think fondly of it, speeding through the universe.

  • 10

    May 10th 

    We report: the sunrise is just about to appear out of the morning fog - as quiet as it looks, the countryside is being quite rambunctious for this dawn. There are birds making all sorts of noises, and the tall grass is rustling as we walk. Also, our expert is talking our ear off.

  • 11

    May 11th

    We report a heavy sky, the whole day through, and yet, not a raindrop to be seen. There was that dim light that we usually know means rain; we kept getting close to the windows, squinting at the clouds that looked dense enough to burst. Perhaps it will rain tomorrow.

  • 12

    May 12th

    We report: we have been posted on top of a hill since sunrise, tasked with counting every single cloud of the day. This is cloud number one. It is almost stationary. It is small. There does not seem to be any sign of more clouds coming in. We are considering sleeping on the job.

  • 13

    May 13th

    We report: we are getting to the time of the year when the sky becomes very, very tall. Maybe there is a little bit of us getting smaller, but mostly, we stand there at the feet of giants, helpless, as they bloom upwards and outwards.

  • 14

    May 14th

    We report that the sky is brighter than it has been all day, minutes before nightfall. We could wonder — really, what use is this, what are we going to do with this extra bit of light now? We think, well, nothing much. This is just a sweet thing for this day.

  • 15

    May 15th

    We report: below the path we are walking along, there is a pond filled with frogs that we could hear from a long way, loud and clear in the dusk. We can barely see where we are walking at this point, so we are holding on to our expert's shoulder as we try to find our way home.

  • 16

    May 16th

    We report: it is early, and cold, and humid, too. We severely misjudged the weather when we left home, and we are dressed all wrong; the wind is picking up, and we think we even got a raindrop in our left eye. This is all fine, though. Nobody is forcing us to be out there, today.

  • 17

    May 17th

    We report, today, like most other days, that it is all about colours. It was all about blue, blue, blue all day,  and when we saw the red come in, we thought it would all be about purple tonight. But the colours kept on coming, dense and vibrant; lit up the whole sky.

     

  • 18

    May 18th

    We report: conditions uncertain, the whole sky is torn apart - the wind? Surely not, at least there is very little wind to feel from down here. We are trying to figure out what is happening up there exactly, but the clouds are already melting away, losing their intricate shapes.

  • 19

    May 19th

    We report: we lay down in the grass on a hill, fell asleep, and woke up to find the sky in the wrong direction. We are having a hard time making the decision to get up. This seems like a good time to practice our ability to do nothing.

  • 20

    May 20th

    We report, that lately, we have been looking to the sky to convince ourselves of the inevitability of change. Or rather, perhaps, of the good that may come out of it. It is good, we think, when the sky is different. And it is good even when we wanted it to stay the same.

  • 21

    May 21st

    We report: we lived a whole day through, and when it came to an end, the sky started burning away at the edges. We sat helplessly, watching it turn shades of brown and orange from the fire that ran through from the East to the West.

  • 22

    May 22nd

    We report, these days, we look for the moon in the morning, first thing to appear from behind the clouds long before the sun rises. In fact, we could be looking for the moon at three in the morning, but we are not available at three in the morning, because that is when we sleep.

  • 23

    May 23rd

    We report: spring has been drier than expected, so far, and as we inch further into it, we relish dark skies and petrichor. From the drizzle to the showers and thunderstorm rains, we look downwards, hoping that the ground will drink it all and keep it there.

  • 24

    May 24th

    We report, sometimes, we do get lost in the clouds, and there really is no way home to be found. Frankly, today, there is nowhere we would want to be but lost there, with the last sun rays trying to find a path in and around the clouds.

  • 25

    May 25th

    We report: the ferns have gotten tall on the hill, and some of the paths that we walked during the winter are no more, swallowed by the overgrowth. Others have opened in the tall grass, and we went to explore them in the still-long shadows of the morning. There was a lot of dew.

  • 26

    May 26th

    We report, though sunsets do not seem to be stretching any longer than usual, the nights seem to take forever to settle, lately. There is a tinge of blue that remains in the dark of the night, and we can clearly see many of the clouds over the stars.

  • 27

    May 27th

    We report: today was very bright, maybe no more than the other days, but we certainly noticed how we kept getting sunshine in our eyes. We would close them and see the sun through our eyelids still. We never seemed to find shadows to walk into, followed by sunshine everywhere.

  • 28

    May 28th

    We report: we can almost hear colours that are this loud. And this time, when we try to describe them to our expert over the phone, we choose words carefully, and though we inevitably fail to express the subtleties of this colour spectrum, we try again and again.

  • 29

    May 29th

    We report a windy day, out in the countryside the smell of flowers is heady and fills every bit of the air that we are breathing. When we walk in the woods, trying to keep our steps light so as to avoid scaring the birds, we hear songs bouncing from one branch to another.

  • 30

    May 30th

    We report: low skies and a steel grey, a few showers throughout the day. This is a part of spring that we do not think of as much, but these days when the sun is a rare sight, and the smell of earth lingers in the air feel like a good place to stop and rest for a while.

  • 31

    May 31st

    We report walking along a gravel road at nightfall, and though the day was warm - hot even when the sun was high, now that sky is getting dark, the air is getting cold with it. We are walking faster while keeping an eye on the horizon, and there are pebbles lining our shoes now.

May 2022

April 1st We report: Spring snow on the way, by the looks of it. Interestingly enough, the weather was a lot colder yesterday. The buds that we have seen on the trees might freeze overnight.

April 1st

We report: Spring snow on the way, by the looks of it. Interestingly enough, the weather was a lot colder yesterday. The buds that we have seen on the trees might freeze overnight.

April 2nd We report that we woke up to the sound of rain on the roof, and we lay there for a long time, listening with our eyes half-closed. Throughout the day, clouds kept rolling out slowly, and the rain stopped and picked up again like an idle conversation. We kept the windows open.

April 2nd

We report that we woke up to the sound of rain on the roof, and we lay there for a long time, listening with our eyes half-closed. Throughout the day, clouds kept rolling out slowly, and the rain stopped and picked up again like an idle conversation. We kept the windows open.

April 3rd We report: there, half of the sky grasped by the shadows, while the other still belongs to the sunlight. We are going to watch until it is completely dark and the last swath of pink fades into blue.

April 3rd

We report: there, half of the sky grasped by the shadows, while the other still belongs to the sunlight. We are going to watch until it is completely dark and the last swath of pink fades into blue.

April 4th We report: this is the end of the night, and we have made it to this new day with an empty sky - a blank slate, although the sky is never really that. The stars, and the dawn on the horizon, and the blue between, over and under.

April 4th

We report: this is the end of the night, and we have made it to this new day with an empty sky - a blank slate, although the sky is never really that. The stars, and the dawn on the horizon, and the blue between, over and under.

April 5th We report: this is Spring, with all its rain and its muddy paths, and also with all its blue and young leaves and melted snow. We heard a woodpecker earlier, and the sound of the wind in the trees. There is going to be a lot more to see, hear, smell, and taste, this year.  

April 5th

We report: this is Spring, with all its rain and its muddy paths, and also with all its blue and young leaves and melted snow. We heard a woodpecker earlier, and the sound of the wind in the trees. There is going to be a lot more to see, hear, smell, and taste, this year.

 

April 6th We report a storm, a kick, a shake. The wind is about to start blowing very hard, and a lot of rain is about to fall too. We are here and the storm is almost here, and everything is so quiet that it is very loud instead, just a few moments before it all snaps.

April 6th

We report a storm, a kick, a shake. The wind is about to start blowing very hard, and a lot of rain is about to fall too. We are here and the storm is almost here, and everything is so quiet that it is very loud instead, just a few moments before it all snaps.

April 7th We report: the days are taking up more space than the nights lately. The sunsets do not come with the same feelings, and the nights do not get as cold. Times are changing.

April 7th

We report: the days are taking up more space than the nights lately. The sunsets do not come with the same feelings, and the nights do not get as cold. Times are changing.

April 8th We report cirrus uncinus on almost too bright a day. The Sun is warm, but the wind is chilly, and these two do not even out; it is quite cold indeed. We have not yet determined what kind of month this will be. Maybe, like often, it will have gone by before we do.

April 8th

We report cirrus uncinus on almost too bright a day. The Sun is warm, but the wind is chilly, and these two do not even out; it is quite cold indeed. We have not yet determined what kind of month this will be. Maybe, like often, it will have gone by before we do.

April 9th We report: now is a time when we make an effort to think about the present moment. Surely, yes, tomorrow will be another day, but as far as we are concerned, this one is not quite over yet. We would like to live it to the last second; we are not ready to give up on today.

April 9th

We report: now is a time when we make an effort to think about the present moment. Surely, yes, tomorrow will be another day, but as far as we are concerned, this one is not quite over yet. We would like to live it to the last second; we are not ready to give up on today.

April 10th We report, in the mountains: we attempted to track down the place where the first raindrop of the day fell, but it proved to be impossible (too many more came after that first one, it seems). We are now waiting for the last drop, so we can maybe look for that one, too.

April 10th

We report, in the mountains: we attempted to track down the place where the first raindrop of the day fell, but it proved to be impossible (too many more came after that first one, it seems). We are now waiting for the last drop, so we can maybe look for that one, too.

April 11th We report altostratus undulatus, which is a type of altostratus that undulates - this is the gist of our understanding. Our expert tells us that they most often occur in the vicinity of surface inversion, as a consequence of gravity waves.

April 11th

We report altostratus undulatus, which is a type of altostratus that undulates - this is the gist of our understanding. Our expert tells us that they most often occur in the vicinity of surface inversion, as a consequence of gravity waves.

April 12th We report: sunshine, good light, a field of blue, some tall, white clouds rising with the air, and us, out there. We are thinking about this, specifically; our body that is so much water would have been clouds, too, at some point - and will be that, again, someday.

April 12th

We report: sunshine, good light, a field of blue, some tall, white clouds rising with the air, and us, out there. We are thinking about this, specifically; our body that is so much water would have been clouds, too, at some point - and will be that, again, someday.

April 13th We report so many stars, and yet each one is special in a different way - not necessarily in a way that we would notice from here, but for someone who knows a little bit more ( our expert, maybe), each of these is part of another world, has a story written in dust and nitrogen.

April 13th

We report so many stars, and yet each one is special in a different way - not necessarily in a way that we would notice from here, but for someone who knows a little bit more ( our expert, maybe), each of these is part of another world, has a story written in dust and nitrogen.

April 14th We report: we were waiting out the rain under cover of the trees, and we are still waiting - but the Sun is coming out, and with the way its light is shining through the raindrops, we could wait forevermore, right here.

April 14th

We report: we were waiting out the rain under cover of the trees, and we are still waiting - but the Sun is coming out, and with the way its light is shining through the raindrops, we could wait forevermore, right here.

April 15th We report: TODAY... SE wind 5 to 15 knots becoming SW. Wind waves 3 to 5 feet subsiding to 1 to 3 feet. Wind swell 2 feet at 8 seconds. Scattered showers and a slight chance of thunderstorms. We wish you a wonderful day

April 15th

We report: TODAY... SE wind 5 to 15 knots becoming SW. Wind waves 3 to 5 feet subsiding to 1 to 3 feet. Wind swell 2 feet at 8 seconds. Scattered showers and a slight chance of thunderstorms.

We wish you a wonderful day

April 16th We report: sunrises can be needlessly so beautiful - what about the times when we were not there to watch them? What about the times we missed these bright and gorgeous moments as we were sleeping? Were they just as beautiful? How many more can we afford to miss?

April 16th

We report: sunrises can be needlessly so beautiful - what about the times when we were not there to watch them? What about the times we missed these bright and gorgeous moments as we were sleeping? Were they just as beautiful? How many more can we afford to miss?

April 17th We report, as of late, cirrus every day. The days of Spring being what they are, we know that the sky is more subject to change than ever, and yet; on any given day, at some point, we look up, and there are those white wispy trails woven into the blue.

April 17th

We report, as of late, cirrus every day. The days of Spring being what they are, we know that the sky is more subject to change than ever, and yet; on any given day, at some point, we look up, and there are those white wispy trails woven into the blue.

April 18th We report a bright night (the Moon, when not hidden by clouds, is still full enough to cast shadows) and our expert's sleepy face gazing up at the sky. We can hear the sounds of the train station behind us, different at night, somehow.

April 18th

We report a bright night (the Moon, when not hidden by clouds, is still full enough to cast shadows) and our expert's sleepy face gazing up at the sky. We can hear the sounds of the train station behind us, different at night, somehow.

April 19th We report: we marched uphill against the wind today, and it was cold and it tore tears from our eyes. The sky swirled and churned, and something up there howled and groaned; the clouds moved too quick for us to make out any lasting shapes.

April 19th

We report: we marched uphill against the wind today, and it was cold and it tore tears from our eyes. The sky swirled and churned, and something up there howled and groaned; the clouds moved too quick for us to make out any lasting shapes.

April 20th We report, suddenly, a field of sunshine. We were so sure that we had passed this exact spot just a few days ago, and there was not a drop of yellow there then, and now - now, there is nothing but.

April 20th

We report, suddenly, a field of sunshine. We were so sure that we had passed this exact spot just a few days ago, and there was not a drop of yellow there then, and now - now, there is nothing but.

April 21st We report: our expert parked the car a few minutes out of town, rolled down the window, and in wafted some fresh air that was coloured with the evening. They said, "do you see this?" and we said, "hard not to, really". And then, we said nothing else for a long time.

April 21st

We report: our expert parked the car a few minutes out of town, rolled down the window, and in wafted some fresh air that was coloured with the evening. They said, "do you see this?" and we said, "hard not to, really". And then, we said nothing else for a long time.

April 22nd We report a storm over the ocean - between two lightning strikes, the thunder that echoes in the air sounds so much louder at sea than it usually does. No seabirds in sight, today.

April 22nd

We report a storm over the ocean - between two lightning strikes, the thunder that echoes in the air sounds so much louder at sea than it usually does. No seabirds in sight, today.

April 23rd We report: this is a small bit of a cloud, and an even smaller bit of the sky. To really see it, we had to block off the Sun with one hand, and then - only then were we able to see what makes this minuscule part of the sky so special.

April 23rd

We report: this is a small bit of a cloud, and an even smaller bit of the sky. To really see it, we had to block off the Sun with one hand, and then - only then were we able to see what makes this minuscule part of the sky so special.

April 24th We report tonight, like many nights before, we try to build a home in the sky. Here is the thing: if our home is in the sky, then we can be home anywhere.

April 24th

We report tonight, like many nights before, we try to build a home in the sky. Here is the thing: if our home is in the sky, then we can be home anywhere.

April 25th We report: it has not rained in a few days now, but the air today is warm and humid, and the sunlight is getting to us through water and dust. The sunset coloured the whole world red.

April 25th

We report: it has not rained in a few days now, but the air today is warm and humid, and the sunlight is getting to us through water and dust. The sunset coloured the whole world red.

April 26th We report, this morning, at a time when we think it is quite preposterous to expect us to be out and about, we are out, and about. We are walking into cloud after cloud, and our clothes are completely soaked through.

April 26th

We report, this morning, at a time when we think it is quite preposterous to expect us to be out and about, we are out, and about. We are walking into cloud after cloud, and our clothes are completely soaked through.

April 27th We report: not the most eye-catching kind of cloud, but in a way, the kind that we like to watch the most. We sit for hours, guessing where the rain is going to fall first, and which cloud is going to reveal the Sun in its wake. But perhaps we say this about every type of cloud.

April 27th

We report: not the most eye-catching kind of cloud, but in a way, the kind that we like to watch the most. We sit for hours, guessing where the rain is going to fall first, and which cloud is going to reveal the Sun in its wake. But perhaps we say this about every type of cloud.

April 28th We report clouds grazed by the dying sunlight of this day. The light is a red-orange, and we know about bosons, subatomic particles, the photoelectric effect, and many more words that require the use of a dictionary but never do we remember any of them while we watch the sunset.

April 28th

We report clouds grazed by the dying sunlight of this day. The light is a red-orange, and we know about bosons, subatomic particles, the photoelectric effect, and many more words that require the use of a dictionary but never do we remember any of them while we watch the sunset.

April 29th We report, today, the sky stayed blue and open throughout the afternoon, but the temperatures wildly fluctuated. We removed our jacket, put it back on, and added a scarf, only to remove our jacket, scarf, and sweater. It was a Spring day.  

April 29th

We report, today, the sky stayed blue and open throughout the afternoon, but the temperatures wildly fluctuated. We removed our jacket, put it back on, and added a scarf, only to remove our jacket, scarf, and sweater. It was a Spring day.

 

April 30th We report: we are preparing for a moonless night. Not that we intend on staying up to witness the absence of a moon; our dedication does not reach that standard. Instead, we even think we might go to sleep earlier than usual. Deal with it, we say boldly to the faceless moon.

April 30th

We report: we are preparing for a moonless night. Not that we intend on staying up to witness the absence of a moon; our dedication does not reach that standard. Instead, we even think we might go to sleep earlier than usual. Deal with it, we say boldly to the faceless moon.

  • 1

    April 1st

    We report: Spring snow on the way, by the looks of it. Interestingly enough, the weather was a lot colder yesterday. The buds that we have seen on the trees might freeze overnight.

  • 2

    April 2nd

    We report that we woke up to the sound of rain on the roof, and we lay there for a long time, listening with our eyes half-closed. Throughout the day, clouds kept rolling out slowly, and the rain stopped and picked up again like an idle conversation. We kept the windows open.

  • 3

    April 3rd

    We report: there, half of the sky grasped by the shadows, while the other still belongs to the sunlight. We are going to watch until it is completely dark and the last swath of pink fades into blue.

  • 4

    April 4th

    We report: this is the end of the night, and we have made it to this new day with an empty sky - a blank slate, although the sky is never really that. The stars, and the dawn on the horizon, and the blue between, over and under.

  • 5

    April 5th

    We report: this is Spring, with all its rain and its muddy paths, and also with all its blue and young leaves and melted snow. We heard a woodpecker earlier, and the sound of the wind in the trees. There is going to be a lot more to see, hear, smell, and taste, this year.

     

  • 6

    April 6th

    We report a storm, a kick, a shake. The wind is about to start blowing very hard, and a lot of rain is about to fall too. We are here and the storm is almost here, and everything is so quiet that it is very loud instead, just a few moments before it all snaps.

  • 7

    April 7th

    We report: the days are taking up more space than the nights lately. The sunsets do not come with the same feelings, and the nights do not get as cold. Times are changing.

  • 8

    April 8th

    We report cirrus uncinus on almost too bright a day. The Sun is warm, but the wind is chilly, and these two do not even out; it is quite cold indeed. We have not yet determined what kind of month this will be. Maybe, like often, it will have gone by before we do.

  • 9

    April 9th

    We report: now is a time when we make an effort to think about the present moment. Surely, yes, tomorrow will be another day, but as far as we are concerned, this one is not quite over yet. We would like to live it to the last second; we are not ready to give up on today.

  • 10

    April 10th

    We report, in the mountains: we attempted to track down the place where the first raindrop of the day fell, but it proved to be impossible (too many more came after that first one, it seems). We are now waiting for the last drop, so we can maybe look for that one, too.

  • 11

    April 11th

    We report altostratus undulatus, which is a type of altostratus that undulates - this is the gist of our understanding. Our expert tells us that they most often occur in the vicinity of surface inversion, as a consequence of gravity waves.

  • 12

    April 12th

    We report: sunshine, good light, a field of blue, some tall, white clouds rising with the air, and us, out there. We are thinking about this, specifically; our body that is so much water would have been clouds, too, at some point - and will be that, again, someday.

  • 13

    April 13th

    We report so many stars, and yet each one is special in a different way - not necessarily in a way that we would notice from here, but for someone who knows a little bit more ( our expert, maybe), each of these is part of another world, has a story written in dust and nitrogen.

  • 14

    April 14th

    We report: we were waiting out the rain under cover of the trees, and we are still waiting - but the Sun is coming out, and with the way its light is shining through the raindrops, we could wait forevermore, right here.

  • 15

    April 15th

    We report: TODAY... SE wind 5 to 15 knots becoming SW. Wind waves 3 to 5 feet subsiding to 1 to 3 feet. Wind swell 2 feet at 8 seconds. Scattered showers and a slight chance of thunderstorms.

    We wish you a wonderful day

  • 16

    April 16th

    We report: sunrises can be needlessly so beautiful - what about the times when we were not there to watch them? What about the times we missed these bright and gorgeous moments as we were sleeping? Were they just as beautiful? How many more can we afford to miss?

  • 17

    April 17th

    We report, as of late, cirrus every day. The days of Spring being what they are, we know that the sky is more subject to change than ever, and yet; on any given day, at some point, we look up, and there are those white wispy trails woven into the blue.

  • 18

    April 18th

    We report a bright night (the Moon, when not hidden by clouds, is still full enough to cast shadows) and our expert's sleepy face gazing up at the sky. We can hear the sounds of the train station behind us, different at night, somehow.

  • 19

    April 19th

    We report: we marched uphill against the wind today, and it was cold and it tore tears from our eyes. The sky swirled and churned, and something up there howled and groaned; the clouds moved too quick for us to make out any lasting shapes.

  • 20

    April 20th

    We report, suddenly, a field of sunshine. We were so sure that we had passed this exact spot just a few days ago, and there was not a drop of yellow there then, and now - now, there is nothing but.

  • 21

    April 21st

    We report: our expert parked the car a few minutes out of town, rolled down the window, and in wafted some fresh air that was coloured with the evening. They said, "do you see this?" and we said, "hard not to, really". And then, we said nothing else for a long time.

  • 22

    April 22nd

    We report a storm over the ocean - between two lightning strikes, the thunder that echoes in the air sounds so much louder at sea than it usually does. No seabirds in sight, today.

  • 23

    April 23rd

    We report: this is a small bit of a cloud, and an even smaller bit of the sky. To really see it, we had to block off the Sun with one hand, and then - only then were we able to see what makes this minuscule part of the sky so special.

  • 24

    April 24th

    We report tonight, like many nights before, we try to build a home in the sky. Here is the thing: if our home is in the sky, then we can be home anywhere.

  • 25

    April 25th

    We report: it has not rained in a few days now, but the air today is warm and humid, and the sunlight is getting to us through water and dust. The sunset coloured the whole world red.

  • 26

    April 26th

    We report, this morning, at a time when we think it is quite preposterous to expect us to be out and about, we are out, and about. We are walking into cloud after cloud, and our clothes are completely soaked through.

  • 27

    April 27th

    We report: not the most eye-catching kind of cloud, but in a way, the kind that we like to watch the most. We sit for hours, guessing where the rain is going to fall first, and which cloud is going to reveal the Sun in its wake. But perhaps we say this about every type of cloud.

  • 28

    April 28th

    We report clouds grazed by the dying sunlight of this day. The light is a red-orange, and we know about bosons, subatomic particles, the photoelectric effect, and many more words that require the use of a dictionary but never do we remember any of them while we watch the sunset.

  • 29

    April 29th

    We report, today, the sky stayed blue and open throughout the afternoon, but the temperatures wildly fluctuated. We removed our jacket, put it back on, and added a scarf, only to remove our jacket, scarf, and sweater. It was a Spring day.

     

  • 30

    April 30th

    We report: we are preparing for a moonless night. Not that we intend on staying up to witness the absence of a moon; our dedication does not reach that standard. Instead, we even think we might go to sleep earlier than usual. Deal with it, we say boldly to the faceless moon.

April 2022

March 1st We report, after a long stretch of slow days with stagnant clouds (we were convinced that they were the same few clouds for three days straight) today, the clouds are exceptionally elusive. We are letting them go by without remembering their shapes; something easy on a busy day.

March 1st

We report, after a long stretch of slow days with stagnant clouds (we were convinced that they were the same few clouds for three days straight) today, the clouds are exceptionally elusive. We are letting them go by without remembering their shapes; something easy on a busy day.

March 2nd We report a sunset after the rain. It was, today, as though the Sun had waited for the rain to stop to say goodbye, like some show of politeness. We appreciate the kindness and wonder if it will be there to greet us in the morning as well.

March 2nd

We report a sunset after the rain. It was, today, as though the Sun had waited for the rain to stop to say goodbye, like some show of politeness. We appreciate the kindness and wonder if it will be there to greet us in the morning as well.

March 3rd We report: when we wake up before sunrise and start to go about our day, we tend to forget about the stars, that they are still here and did not disappear during our slumber. It almost feels like it should be forbidden to see something so beautiful this early in the day.

March 3rd

We report: when we wake up before sunrise and start to go about our day, we tend to forget about the stars, that they are still here and did not disappear during our slumber. It almost feels like it should be forbidden to see something so beautiful this early in the day.

March 4th We report some strong winds and showers today. We had talked about spring with our expert this morning, and it had to be a contradictory sentiment on the weather's part that it hailed so hard during the afternoon. Cold as it was, the air still felt clean and invigorating.

March 4th

We report some strong winds and showers today. We had talked about spring with our expert this morning, and it had to be a contradictory sentiment on the weather's part that it hailed so hard during the afternoon. Cold as it was, the air still felt clean and invigorating.

March 5th We report: it happens sometimes that we walk under a cloud just as we are looking at it, and we realise just how big it is (if we do not walk into a tree first). As long as we are walking in the direction of the wind, we can never expect to leave its shadow. Clouds are very big.

March 5th

We report: it happens sometimes that we walk under a cloud just as we are looking at it, and we realise just how big it is (if we do not walk into a tree first). As long as we are walking in the direction of the wind, we can never expect to leave its shadow. Clouds are very big.

March 6th We report the last colours we will see in the sky before next morning. We also report seeing this sunset through the rain, almost expecting a late rainbow even as the Sun is already passing behind the horizon.

March 6th

We report the last colours we will see in the sky before next morning. We also report seeing this sunset through the rain, almost expecting a late rainbow even as the Sun is already passing behind the horizon.

March 7th We report a Kelvin-Helmholtz instability, one of these moments when we are able to observe the differences in layers of air with our own two eyes, with a little help from water evaporation and condensation. It is a windy day, but the sky is otherwise clear, and the Sun is bright.

March 7th

We report a Kelvin-Helmholtz instability, one of these moments when we are able to observe the differences in layers of air with our own two eyes, with a little help from water evaporation and condensation. It is a windy day, but the sky is otherwise clear, and the Sun is bright.

March 8th We report: dusk at last, quiet in this place after a long day. The night is falling like dust, settling in slow and easy on our eyelids. It has been a little bit colder at night lately, our expert says it has to do with humidity. We put warmer socks on.

March 8th

We report: dusk at last, quiet in this place after a long day. The night is falling like dust, settling in slow and easy on our eyelids. It has been a little bit colder at night lately, our expert says it has to do with humidity. We put warmer socks on.

March 9th We report the smell of oncoming rain. We think it happens when there is already rain falling far up into the sky that is not reaching the ground yet. This is good; we were not expecting rain but we welcome it. It feels right, today, at this moment. An excellent development.

March 9th

We report the smell of oncoming rain. We think it happens when there is already rain falling far up into the sky that is not reaching the ground yet. This is good; we were not expecting rain but we welcome it. It feels right, today, at this moment. An excellent development.

March 10th We report: it is sunrise, complete with birds singing and a sweet breeze as well. We woke up in a daze, so groggy that we wondered whether we might have slept a whole day through. It turns out, though, that our expert had accidentally torn two pages off the calendar at once.

March 10th

We report: it is sunrise, complete with birds singing and a sweet breeze as well. We woke up in a daze, so groggy that we wondered whether we might have slept a whole day through. It turns out, though, that our expert had accidentally torn two pages off the calendar at once.

March 11th We report that, with the arrival of Spring, the aurora-watching season is slowly starting to come to an end. The Northern Lights will not stop shining, but our naked eyes will not be able to see them until the sky starts darkening again.

March 11th

We report that, with the arrival of Spring, the aurora-watching season is slowly starting to come to an end. The Northern Lights will not stop shining, but our naked eyes will not be able to see them until the sky starts darkening again.

March 12th We report: a cold day, the seaspray is riding the wind and the ocean is frothy. We have kept our hands tucked into our pockets and have kept our walk to a safe distance from the shore, but there is something exhilarating about being out in such a storm.

March 12th

We report: a cold day, the seaspray is riding the wind and the ocean is frothy. We have kept our hands tucked into our pockets and have kept our walk to a safe distance from the shore, but there is something exhilarating about being out in such a storm.

March 13th We report a sunny morning; the air is still humid from the night, but when we stay out of the shadows, it is almost a warm day. The clouds keep stretching out instead of moving, as though they are waiting for something.

March 13th

We report a sunny morning; the air is still humid from the night, but when we stay out of the shadows, it is almost a warm day. The clouds keep stretching out instead of moving, as though they are waiting for something.

March 14th We report a crimson sky, burning loud with the end of the day. Today, we made some time for the sunset, just to sit and watch it, and we think the sunset made some time for us, too.

March 14th

We report a crimson sky, burning loud with the end of the day. Today, we made some time for the sunset, just to sit and watch it, and we think the sunset made some time for us, too.

March 15th We report: though we often think about how long it takes for the light of distant stars to reach us, we do not think as much about the light of our very own Sun. It takes about 8 minutes and 20 seconds to reach us, as it turns out. Just enough time to let us ponder our existence.

March 15th

We report: though we often think about how long it takes for the light of distant stars to reach us, we do not think as much about the light of our very own Sun. It takes about 8 minutes and 20 seconds to reach us, as it turns out. Just enough time to let us ponder our existence.

March 16th We report our well-loved sky, traveled through by the same water countless times over. Well-loved by us who look up to it whenever we get a second; well-loved and weathered down and yet all new with every moment that passes.

March 16th

We report our well-loved sky, traveled through by the same water countless times over. Well-loved by us who look up to it whenever we get a second; well-loved and weathered down and yet all new with every moment that passes.

March 17th We report: the blue sky today, higher and brighter than we had seen it in a long time - the Sun, too, felt warmer, and the clouds seemed thinner. Some trees are carrying buds, and the wind was light. We were not able to go for a walk, though, which made it all a bit bittersweet.

March 17th

We report: the blue sky today, higher and brighter than we had seen it in a long time - the Sun, too, felt warmer, and the clouds seemed thinner. Some trees are carrying buds, and the wind was light. We were not able to go for a walk, though, which made it all a bit bittersweet.

March 18th We report crepuscular rays, which are really quite self-explanatory. Crepuscular rays are an optical effect that is amongst those we tend to point at and exclaim over whenever we spot them; we also look for them whenever clouds are anywhere near the Sun.

March 18th

We report crepuscular rays, which are really quite self-explanatory. Crepuscular rays are an optical effect that is amongst those we tend to point at and exclaim over whenever we spot them; we also look for them whenever clouds are anywhere near the Sun.

March 19th We report: there are a lot of stars. This is not news, this is a pretty ancient situation, actually, but we just thoroughly considered this fact for the first time in a long while. It is bewildering to us that we cannot count them with all our fingers and toes. Over twenty stars.

March 19th

We report: there are a lot of stars. This is not news, this is a pretty ancient situation, actually, but we just thoroughly considered this fact for the first time in a long while. It is bewildering to us that we cannot count them with all our fingers and toes. Over twenty stars.

March 20th We report astronomical Spring in the Northern Hemisphere due to the vernal equinox. The Sun has crossed the First Point of Aries, which, interestingly enough, is currently in Pisces. As far as we are concerned, it has already been Spring for a while, but we do like milestones.

March 20th

We report astronomical Spring in the Northern Hemisphere due to the vernal equinox. The Sun has crossed the First Point of Aries, which, interestingly enough, is currently in Pisces. As far as we are concerned, it has already been Spring for a while, but we do like milestones.

March 21st We report: today, the lake is still and blue. We had so many things to do, and we gave them all up in favour of sitting in the sunshine, and we have absolutely no regret.  We will deal with the consequences later.

March 21st

We report: today, the lake is still and blue. We had so many things to do, and we gave them all up in favour of sitting in the sunshine, and we have absolutely no regret.  We will deal with the consequences later.

March 22nd We report a bit of pink to ease the way into the day; not that blue, orange, or white, or grey, are bad colours to start the day with. But a pink like this fades in and out so fast, we just feel lucky that we were able to see it today.

March 22nd

We report a bit of pink to ease the way into the day; not that blue, orange, or white, or grey, are bad colours to start the day with. But a pink like this fades in and out so fast, we just feel lucky that we were able to see it today.

March 23rd - 7 AM We report: it is just before dawn, a precious few minutes of darkness left to look at the stars before they fade into the daylight. The sky is just beginning to take on colours, stepping away from the black of the night.

March 23rd - 7 AM

We report: it is just before dawn, a precious few minutes of darkness left to look at the stars before they fade into the daylight. The sky is just beginning to take on colours, stepping away from the black of the night.

March 23rd - 10 AM We report: we can see the fog rolling over this field in slow waves, eating away at the horizon. It is late in the morning for the clouds to stay this low; we wonder whether the fog will lift or if we will walk through it all day.

March 23rd - 10 AM

We report: we can see the fog rolling over this field in slow waves, eating away at the horizon. It is late in the morning for the clouds to stay this low; we wonder whether the fog will lift or if we will walk through it all day.

March 23rd - 1 PM We report clouds growing like big trees into this bright blue sky, rising quickly with the heat of the midday Sun. Cumulus congestus inspire awe in us, if only for their sheer size - a few kilometers up into the sky. We are easily impressed.

March 23rd - 1 PM

We report clouds growing like big trees into this bright blue sky, rising quickly with the heat of the midday Sun. Cumulus congestus inspire awe in us, if only for their sheer size - a few kilometers up into the sky. We are easily impressed.

March 23rd - 4 PM We report: the human eye can only perceive so many frequencies of light, but they feel like an infinity when we are looking at a rainbow. Every nanometer of wavelength we can see is worth cherishing.

March 23rd - 4 PM

We report: the human eye can only perceive so many frequencies of light, but they feel like an infinity when we are looking at a rainbow. Every nanometer of wavelength we can see is worth cherishing.

March 23rd - 8 PM We report about sunsets, the contrast in their warmth against the cold nights they precede. This one brought hail with the nightfall, and the wet road reflected that thin stripe of light in the sky. It stayed burned onto our retinas far after the sky was fully dark.

March 23rd - 8 PM

We report about sunsets, the contrast in their warmth against the cold nights they precede. This one brought hail with the nightfall, and the wet road reflected that thin stripe of light in the sky. It stayed burned onto our retinas far after the sky was fully dark.

March 23rd - 11 PM We report no lighthouse on the horizon, but we did not need any. We wanted to walk into the sea, maybe,  see how far we could go until the water reached our chin. When we are here, it seems like there is nothing else left to do; got to the end of the Earth, only the sea remains.

March 23rd - 11 PM

We report no lighthouse on the horizon, but we did not need any. We wanted to walk into the sea, maybe,  see how far we could go until the water reached our chin. When we are here, it seems like there is nothing else left to do; got to the end of the Earth, only the sea remains.

March 24th We report, today, in the sky infinite, plumes of cirrus rolling away to swallow more of the blue. It seems, on a day like this one, that the sky is always this blue, that our life has been one continuous, sunny day. We would believe it, too, if we laid down and kept watching it.

March 24th

We report, today, in the sky infinite, plumes of cirrus rolling away to swallow more of the blue. It seems, on a day like this one, that the sky is always this blue, that our life has been one continuous, sunny day. We would believe it, too, if we laid down and kept watching it.

March 25th We report: a peaceful transition, a moment to make us care about the passage of time in a different way. Counting our age in beautiful sunsets we have observed would certainly be unreliable, but it would be meaningful to us; something to brag about, even, perhaps.

March 25th

We report: a peaceful transition, a moment to make us care about the passage of time in a different way. Counting our age in beautiful sunsets we have observed would certainly be unreliable, but it would be meaningful to us; something to brag about, even, perhaps.

March 26th We report a quiet sky for a quiet day. These clouds stuck around for a long time, and they did not bring any rain or other type of precipitation. The temperature was not quite warm, not quite cold either. We slept in late and decided we would go to bed early. A quiet day.

March 26th

We report a quiet sky for a quiet day. These clouds stuck around for a long time, and they did not bring any rain or other type of precipitation. The temperature was not quite warm, not quite cold either. We slept in late and decided we would go to bed early. A quiet day.

March 27th We report: misshapen cloud streets for our eyes to get lost in. The wind dug those lines in between the clouds, and they remain even as the clouds themselves begin to dissipate. This is the type of artifact our gaze gets hooked on so easily we risk bumping into walls.

March 27th

We report: misshapen cloud streets for our eyes to get lost in. The wind dug those lines in between the clouds, and they remain even as the clouds themselves begin to dissipate. This is the type of artifact our gaze gets hooked on so easily we risk bumping into walls.

March 28th We report: the crescent of the Moon is becoming harder and harder to spot in the sky every day. We know she will be back, and she will be growing brighter and rounder, but it is almost hard to believe as we watch her wane - even though we have seen it happen hundreds of times.

March 28th

We report: the crescent of the Moon is becoming harder and harder to spot in the sky every day. We know she will be back, and she will be growing brighter and rounder, but it is almost hard to believe as we watch her wane - even though we have seen it happen hundreds of times.

March 29th We report a day on Earth, with sunshine and clouds, with water and ice. Our planet spun on its axis, the shadows on the ground shortened and then lengthened again. Everywhere on Earth, people looked up to the sky, and the weather was always different.

March 29th

We report a day on Earth, with sunshine and clouds, with water and ice. Our planet spun on its axis, the shadows on the ground shortened and then lengthened again. Everywhere on Earth, people looked up to the sky, and the weather was always different.

March 30th We report a cold morning; there is a bit of a breeze, not strong enough to disturb the sea, but dry enough to make our eyes water. The tide is low, and we had to walk for a while to reach the shore. Early as it is, we did not see any footprints, the sand is completely immaculate.

March 30th

We report a cold morning; there is a bit of a breeze, not strong enough to disturb the sea, but dry enough to make our eyes water. The tide is low, and we had to walk for a while to reach the shore. Early as it is, we did not see any footprints, the sand is completely immaculate.

March 31st We report: we think we understand, maybe, that more than black or white do, blue seems to contain all colours, somehow. There is no science to back this up, it is more of a feeling. At dusk, blue captures every single colour.

March 31st

We report: we think we understand, maybe, that more than black or white do, blue seems to contain all colours, somehow. There is no science to back this up, it is more of a feeling. At dusk, blue captures every single colour.

  • 1

    March 1st

    We report, after a long stretch of slow days with stagnant clouds (we were convinced that they were the same few clouds for three days straight) today, the clouds are exceptionally elusive. We are letting them go by without remembering their shapes; something easy on a busy day.

  • 2

    March 2nd

    We report a sunset after the rain. It was, today, as though the Sun had waited for the rain to stop to say goodbye, like some show of politeness. We appreciate the kindness and wonder if it will be there to greet us in the morning as well.

  • 3

    March 3rd

    We report: when we wake up before sunrise and start to go about our day, we tend to forget about the stars, that they are still here and did not disappear during our slumber. It almost feels like it should be forbidden to see something so beautiful this early in the day.

  • 4

    March 4th

    We report some strong winds and showers today. We had talked about spring with our expert this morning, and it had to be a contradictory sentiment on the weather's part that it hailed so hard during the afternoon. Cold as it was, the air still felt clean and invigorating.

  • 5

    March 5th

    We report: it happens sometimes that we walk under a cloud just as we are looking at it, and we realise just how big it is (if we do not walk into a tree first). As long as we are walking in the direction of the wind, we can never expect to leave its shadow. Clouds are very big.

  • 6

    March 6th

    We report the last colours we will see in the sky before next morning. We also report seeing this sunset through the rain, almost expecting a late rainbow even as the Sun is already passing behind the horizon.

  • 7

    March 7th

    We report a Kelvin-Helmholtz instability, one of these moments when we are able to observe the differences in layers of air with our own two eyes, with a little help from water evaporation and condensation. It is a windy day, but the sky is otherwise clear, and the Sun is bright.

  • 8

    March 8th

    We report: dusk at last, quiet in this place after a long day. The night is falling like dust, settling in slow and easy on our eyelids. It has been a little bit colder at night lately, our expert says it has to do with humidity. We put warmer socks on.

  • 9

    March 9th

    We report the smell of oncoming rain. We think it happens when there is already rain falling far up into the sky that is not reaching the ground yet. This is good; we were not expecting rain but we welcome it. It feels right, today, at this moment. An excellent development.

  • 10

    March 10th

    We report: it is sunrise, complete with birds singing and a sweet breeze as well. We woke up in a daze, so groggy that we wondered whether we might have slept a whole day through. It turns out, though, that our expert had accidentally torn two pages off the calendar at once.

  • 11

    March 11th

    We report that, with the arrival of Spring, the aurora-watching season is slowly starting to come to an end. The Northern Lights will not stop shining, but our naked eyes will not be able to see them until the sky starts darkening again.

  • 12

    March 12th

    We report: a cold day, the seaspray is riding the wind and the ocean is frothy. We have kept our hands tucked into our pockets and have kept our walk to a safe distance from the shore, but there is something exhilarating about being out in such a storm.

  • 13

    March 13th

    We report a sunny morning; the air is still humid from the night, but when we stay out of the shadows, it is almost a warm day. The clouds keep stretching out instead of moving, as though they are waiting for something.

  • 14

    March 14th

    We report a crimson sky, burning loud with the end of the day. Today, we made some time for the sunset, just to sit and watch it, and we think the sunset made some time for us, too.

  • 15

    March 15th

    We report: though we often think about how long it takes for the light of distant stars to reach us, we do not think as much about the light of our very own Sun. It takes about 8 minutes and 20 seconds to reach us, as it turns out. Just enough time to let us ponder our existence.

  • 16

    March 16th

    We report our well-loved sky, traveled through by the same water countless times over. Well-loved by us who look up to it whenever we get a second; well-loved and weathered down and yet all new with every moment that passes.

  • 17

    March 17th

    We report: the blue sky today, higher and brighter than we had seen it in a long time - the Sun, too, felt warmer, and the clouds seemed thinner. Some trees are carrying buds, and the wind was light. We were not able to go for a walk, though, which made it all a bit bittersweet.

  • 18

    March 18th

    We report crepuscular rays, which are really quite self-explanatory. Crepuscular rays are an optical effect that is amongst those we tend to point at and exclaim over whenever we spot them; we also look for them whenever clouds are anywhere near the Sun.

  • 19

    March 19th

    We report: there are a lot of stars. This is not news, this is a pretty ancient situation, actually, but we just thoroughly considered this fact for the first time in a long while. It is bewildering to us that we cannot count them with all our fingers and toes. Over twenty stars.

  • 20

    March 20th

    We report astronomical Spring in the Northern Hemisphere due to the vernal equinox. The Sun has crossed the First Point of Aries, which, interestingly enough, is currently in Pisces. As far as we are concerned, it has already been Spring for a while, but we do like milestones.

  • 21

    March 21st

    We report: today, the lake is still and blue. We had so many things to do, and we gave them all up in favour of sitting in the sunshine, and we have absolutely no regret.  We will deal with the consequences later.

  • 22

    March 22nd

    We report a bit of pink to ease the way into the day; not that blue, orange, or white, or grey, are bad colours to start the day with. But a pink like this fades in and out so fast, we just feel lucky that we were able to see it today.

  • 23

    March 23rd - 7 AM

    We report: it is just before dawn, a precious few minutes of darkness left to look at the stars before they fade into the daylight. The sky is just beginning to take on colours, stepping away from the black of the night.

  • 24

    March 23rd - 10 AM

    We report: we can see the fog rolling over this field in slow waves, eating away at the horizon. It is late in the morning for the clouds to stay this low; we wonder whether the fog will lift or if we will walk through it all day.

  • 25

    March 23rd - 1 PM

    We report clouds growing like big trees into this bright blue sky, rising quickly with the heat of the midday Sun. Cumulus congestus inspire awe in us, if only for their sheer size - a few kilometers up into the sky. We are easily impressed.

  • 26

    March 23rd - 4 PM

    We report: the human eye can only perceive so many frequencies of light, but they feel like an infinity when we are looking at a rainbow. Every nanometer of wavelength we can see is worth cherishing.

  • 27

    March 23rd - 8 PM

    We report about sunsets, the contrast in their warmth against the cold nights they precede. This one brought hail with the nightfall, and the wet road reflected that thin stripe of light in the sky. It stayed burned onto our retinas far after the sky was fully dark.

  • 28

    March 23rd - 11 PM

    We report no lighthouse on the horizon, but we did not need any. We wanted to walk into the sea, maybe,  see how far we could go until the water reached our chin. When we are here, it seems like there is nothing else left to do; got to the end of the Earth, only the sea remains.

  • 29

    March 24th

    We report, today, in the sky infinite, plumes of cirrus rolling away to swallow more of the blue. It seems, on a day like this one, that the sky is always this blue, that our life has been one continuous, sunny day. We would believe it, too, if we laid down and kept watching it.

  • 30

    March 25th

    We report: a peaceful transition, a moment to make us care about the passage of time in a different way. Counting our age in beautiful sunsets we have observed would certainly be unreliable, but it would be meaningful to us; something to brag about, even, perhaps.

  • 31

    March 26th

    We report a quiet sky for a quiet day. These clouds stuck around for a long time, and they did not bring any rain or other type of precipitation. The temperature was not quite warm, not quite cold either. We slept in late and decided we would go to bed early. A quiet day.

  • 32

    March 27th

    We report: misshapen cloud streets for our eyes to get lost in. The wind dug those lines in between the clouds, and they remain even as the clouds themselves begin to dissipate. This is the type of artifact our gaze gets hooked on so easily we risk bumping into walls.

  • 33

    March 28th

    We report: the crescent of the Moon is becoming harder and harder to spot in the sky every day. We know she will be back, and she will be growing brighter and rounder, but it is almost hard to believe as we watch her wane - even though we have seen it happen hundreds of times.

  • 34

    March 29th

    We report a day on Earth, with sunshine and clouds, with water and ice. Our planet spun on its axis, the shadows on the ground shortened and then lengthened again. Everywhere on Earth, people looked up to the sky, and the weather was always different.

  • 35

    March 30th

    We report a cold morning; there is a bit of a breeze, not strong enough to disturb the sea, but dry enough to make our eyes water. The tide is low, and we had to walk for a while to reach the shore. Early as it is, we did not see any footprints, the sand is completely immaculate.

  • 36

    March 31st

    We report: we think we understand, maybe, that more than black or white do, blue seems to contain all colours, somehow. There is no science to back this up, it is more of a feeling. At dusk, blue captures every single colour.

March 2022

February 1st We report: we have fully entered nighttime, and the wind is digging its icy fingers everywhere. There is just a small window of daylight remaining, West of where we stand. Looking out into it, it seems like a whole different day hidden above the clouds.

February 1st

We report: we have fully entered nighttime, and the wind is digging its icy fingers everywhere. There is just a small window of daylight remaining, West of where we stand. Looking out into it, it seems like a whole different day hidden above the clouds.

February 2nd We report: we looked at the sunrise on the ceiling today, a new way to watch the sky change (as though we needed one). The angle of the rays kept shifting slowly on the white paint, a lesson in geometry that our mind was too sleepy to even begin to acknowledge.

February 2nd

We report: we looked at the sunrise on the ceiling today, a new way to watch the sky change (as though we needed one). The angle of the rays kept shifting slowly on the white paint, a lesson in geometry that our mind was too sleepy to even begin to acknowledge.

February 3rd We report a rain that clings onto the clouds - just enough drops here and there that it smells like it is raining. We are sitting on a wet wooden bench, dressed for a warmer (drier) weather, firmly determined to pretend that this is what we wanted all along.

February 3rd

We report a rain that clings onto the clouds - just enough drops here and there that it smells like it is raining. We are sitting on a wet wooden bench, dressed for a warmer (drier) weather, firmly determined to pretend that this is what we wanted all along.

February 4th We report a circumzenithal arc, a swipe of rainbow far above the Sun; these occur thanks to some flat and hexagonal ice crystals in the highest parts of the troposphere. Unlike our usual rainbows, their colours start with blue and end with red. Also, they look like smiles.

February 4th

We report a circumzenithal arc, a swipe of rainbow far above the Sun; these occur thanks to some flat and hexagonal ice crystals in the highest parts of the troposphere. Unlike our usual rainbows, their colours start with blue and end with red. Also, they look like smiles.

February 5th We report: long before we were born, long before any sunset was painted, and a long time before anyone ever sat down to watch a rising sun - there had to be this emotion already, somehow. Someone somewhere had to have that feeling that occurs when something begins and ends.

February 5th

We report: long before we were born, long before any sunset was painted, and a long time before anyone ever sat down to watch a rising sun - there had to be this emotion already, somehow. Someone somewhere had to have that feeling that occurs when something begins and ends.

February 6th We report: nights are getting shorter, but everything is growing colder still. And we think, back then, when the first snow fell, silence fell there along with it; the earth froze over and has been asleep ever since. We forgot where we were going, if there was somewhere to go to.

February 6th

We report: nights are getting shorter, but everything is growing colder still. And we think, back then, when the first snow fell, silence fell there along with it; the earth froze over and has been asleep ever since. We forgot where we were going, if there was somewhere to go to.

February 7th We report: many people talk about bringing the Moon back to other people, but we take offense to that concept. The Moon looks great where it is and we would feel terrible should she be taken away. This is a Public Service Announcement: please, do not steal the Moon.

February 7th

We report: many people talk about bringing the Moon back to other people, but we take offense to that concept. The Moon looks great where it is and we would feel terrible should she be taken away. This is a Public Service Announcement: please, do not steal the Moon.

February 8th We report, today again, a new sky. We do wonder, sometimes, looking at the sky - have we seen this before, is this really the first time we are seeing this cloud? But of course, whatever happens, each time we look up (every few minutes, every few seconds), we see a different sky.

February 8th

We report, today again, a new sky. We do wonder, sometimes, looking at the sky - have we seen this before, is this really the first time we are seeing this cloud? But of course, whatever happens, each time we look up (every few minutes, every few seconds), we see a different sky.

February 9th We report: we have walked in mud for most of the day, the wet earth grabbing our feet with each step as though with the intent to swallow us whole. We have rain in our eyes, our pockets are also full of rainwater, and it keeps on falling. We think we might never get dry again.

February 9th

We report: we have walked in mud for most of the day, the wet earth grabbing our feet with each step as though with the intent to swallow us whole. We have rain in our eyes, our pockets are also full of rainwater, and it keeps on falling. We think we might never get dry again.

February 10th We report, with every bit of yellow sunlight, we get caught up in all the golden hours we have experienced before. The golden hour; a moment frozen in time, a suspension of something sweet, a complete abstraction that makes everything so different and familiar at the same time.

February 10th

We report, with every bit of yellow sunlight, we get caught up in all the golden hours we have experienced before. The golden hour; a moment frozen in time, a suspension of something sweet, a complete abstraction that makes everything so different and familiar at the same time.

February 11th We report: a sky bright and blue with only a handful of clouds; our first sunburn of the year. The cold wind that kept our cheeks red throughout the day made us forget about the Sun.

February 11th

We report: a sky bright and blue with only a handful of clouds; our first sunburn of the year. The cold wind that kept our cheeks red throughout the day made us forget about the Sun.

February 12th We report a purple haze in the sky. It is hard to tell if the scattered lilac hue is coming from above or below the clouds, but everything around us has turned purple too, and it is like a dream. Not a bad one, not a good one either, but it feels like an invention of our mind.

February 12th

We report a purple haze in the sky. It is hard to tell if the scattered lilac hue is coming from above or below the clouds, but everything around us has turned purple too, and it is like a dream. Not a bad one, not a good one either, but it feels like an invention of our mind.

February 13th We report: it has been winter for long enough that we had forgotten about the existence of fireflies. Tonight though, as we stand at the edge of the city, watching the lights turn off one by one, we are thinking about them.

February 13th

We report: it has been winter for long enough that we had forgotten about the existence of fireflies. Tonight though, as we stand at the edge of the city, watching the lights turn off one by one, we are thinking about them.

February 14th We report rain again today. There is something strange about the rain, that before it falls, it is just a cloud, and once it has fallen, it is just water. Rain is only ever really rain as it falls; a short-lived existence, always in motion from its beginning to its end.

February 14th

We report rain again today. There is something strange about the rain, that before it falls, it is just a cloud, and once it has fallen, it is just water. Rain is only ever really rain as it falls; a short-lived existence, always in motion from its beginning to its end.

February 15th We came out of the woods to see the sky split in two, and to feel the wind rise up, moving Eastwards. Along with it, the heavy blanket of clouds advanced further, casting dark shadows onto the countryside. We followed it through the windbreaks until it dissipated.

February 15th

We came out of the woods to see the sky split in two, and to feel the wind rise up, moving Eastwards. Along with it, the heavy blanket of clouds advanced further, casting dark shadows onto the countryside. We followed it through the windbreaks until it dissipated.

February 16th We report: today, we have lived many days. The sky has cycled through every season, and we with it. The fog, the Sun, the rain and the hail, and then the Sun again after that, and only the wet soil left to prove everything that came before. It is a good day to be alive.

February 16th

We report: today, we have lived many days. The sky has cycled through every season, and we with it. The fog, the Sun, the rain and the hail, and then the Sun again after that, and only the wet soil left to prove everything that came before. It is a good day to be alive.

February 17th We report that, if indeed the Moon is a piece of the Earth that was torn off and projected into space, then it makes sense, that we would feel kinship looking at her. A little piece of home, a few hundred thousand miles away from home.

February 17th

We report that, if indeed the Moon is a piece of the Earth that was torn off and projected into space, then it makes sense, that we would feel kinship looking at her. A little piece of home, a few hundred thousand miles away from home.

February 18th We report: a green hill on a winter day reminds us that Spring is not too far ahead, and in the wind that keeps folding the grass we found something that we remember. This is not it yet, just a whisper, a rumour that will build - but this is what time is like, insidious.

February 18th

We report: a green hill on a winter day reminds us that Spring is not too far ahead, and in the wind that keeps folding the grass we found something that we remember. This is not it yet, just a whisper, a rumour that will build - but this is what time is like, insidious.

February 19th We report: this is a sky to put you to sleep. Everything all horizontal and stretched out, the colours blurred into one another. Make a place for yourself in the sky, in between the clouds, so you can rest, so you can close your eyes and sleep; this is for you, just like this.

February 19th

We report: this is a sky to put you to sleep. Everything all horizontal and stretched out, the colours blurred into one another. Make a place for yourself in the sky, in between the clouds, so you can rest, so you can close your eyes and sleep; this is for you, just like this.

February 20th We report today: we did not think we were the type of person who collects things. We lose interest rather quickly, five seashells, ten pretty rocks, and scattered postcards in drawers. It turns out, though, we have been building a rather extensive cloud collection ( in our mind).

February 20th

We report today: we did not think we were the type of person who collects things. We lose interest rather quickly, five seashells, ten pretty rocks, and scattered postcards in drawers. It turns out, though, we have been building a rather extensive cloud collection ( in our mind).

February 21st We report: it always feels a little bit wrong, watching the sea from a distance. It feels like we should come closer, on the beach, and then once we are on the beach, it feels like we should get even closer, maybe walk into it. A bit too cold for that, today, though.

February 21st

We report: it always feels a little bit wrong, watching the sea from a distance. It feels like we should come closer, on the beach, and then once we are on the beach, it feels like we should get even closer, maybe walk into it. A bit too cold for that, today, though.

February 22nd We report that we lost the morning to the fog, close to the wet grass so as to try and not get lost in the sky. Our expert talks about the way fog blurs time as well as our depth of field; we think of the way the landscape is revealed in thin slices as we walk through the clouds.

February 22nd

We report that we lost the morning to the fog, close to the wet grass so as to try and not get lost in the sky. Our expert talks about the way fog blurs time as well as our depth of field; we think of the way the landscape is revealed in thin slices as we walk through the clouds.

February 23rd We report: February, so short and so long at the same time - shorter by the number of days, longer by the amount of sunlight growing every day. This day ended with a flourish, something of a blossom in the sky.

February 23rd

We report: February, so short and so long at the same time - shorter by the number of days, longer by the amount of sunlight growing every day. This day ended with a flourish, something of a blossom in the sky.

February 24th We report, in the blue sky, our Earth's best traveler in the form of this little cloud. We cannot help but feel compassion for the long way here and ahead, and though water never really arrives anywhere, never really finds an end to its journey, we wish it safe travels.

February 24th

We report, in the blue sky, our Earth's best traveler in the form of this little cloud. We cannot help but feel compassion for the long way here and ahead, and though water never really arrives anywhere, never really finds an end to its journey, we wish it safe travels.

February 25th We report: the earthshine on the Moon makes it look like someone tried to shine the Moon with a rag, as one would do with silverware - and then gave up on the way. Every night they will give up a little bit earlier, until the new Moon. Everyone deserves a break, after all.

February 25th

We report: the earthshine on the Moon makes it look like someone tried to shine the Moon with a rag, as one would do with silverware - and then gave up on the way. Every night they will give up a little bit earlier, until the new Moon. Everyone deserves a break, after all.

February 26th We report a salty kind of day. We know we will taste salt on our lips for days after going near the ocean; and we will also find sand in our shoes, too, even in the pairs we did not wear to the beach. Is it we who cling to the sea, or is it the ocean following us everywhere?

February 26th

We report a salty kind of day. We know we will taste salt on our lips for days after going near the ocean; and we will also find sand in our shoes, too, even in the pairs we did not wear to the beach. Is it we who cling to the sea, or is it the ocean following us everywhere?

February 27th We report the kind of Sun we can bear to look at, half-hidden, timid, small, on a cold morning. We remember the summer Sun, big, white-hot, heavy. Some days we miss it, even its inescapable heat. Today, though, this is enough and even better, something to match our soul.

February 27th

We report the kind of Sun we can bear to look at, half-hidden, timid, small, on a cold morning. We remember the summer Sun, big, white-hot, heavy. Some days we miss it, even its inescapable heat. Today, though, this is enough and even better, something to match our soul.

February 28th We report: we are somewhere where there is sky below and sky above, and the weather is a lot harder to determine in these conditions. Is it cloudy? Yes, yes indeed, below us is a sea of clouds as far as the eye can see - is it sunny? Well, yes, that as well, actually.

February 28th

We report: we are somewhere where there is sky below and sky above, and the weather is a lot harder to determine in these conditions. Is it cloudy? Yes, yes indeed, below us is a sea of clouds as far as the eye can see - is it sunny? Well, yes, that as well, actually.

  • 1

    February 1st

    We report: we have fully entered nighttime, and the wind is digging its icy fingers everywhere. There is just a small window of daylight remaining, West of where we stand. Looking out into it, it seems like a whole different day hidden above the clouds.

  • 2

    February 2nd

    We report: we looked at the sunrise on the ceiling today, a new way to watch the sky change (as though we needed one). The angle of the rays kept shifting slowly on the white paint, a lesson in geometry that our mind was too sleepy to even begin to acknowledge.

  • 3

    February 3rd

    We report a rain that clings onto the clouds - just enough drops here and there that it smells like it is raining. We are sitting on a wet wooden bench, dressed for a warmer (drier) weather, firmly determined to pretend that this is what we wanted all along.

  • 4

    February 4th

    We report a circumzenithal arc, a swipe of rainbow far above the Sun; these occur thanks to some flat and hexagonal ice crystals in the highest parts of the troposphere. Unlike our usual rainbows, their colours start with blue and end with red. Also, they look like smiles.

  • 5

    February 5th

    We report: long before we were born, long before any sunset was painted, and a long time before anyone ever sat down to watch a rising sun - there had to be this emotion already, somehow. Someone somewhere had to have that feeling that occurs when something begins and ends.

  • 6

    February 6th

    We report: nights are getting shorter, but everything is growing colder still. And we think, back then, when the first snow fell, silence fell there along with it; the earth froze over and has been asleep ever since. We forgot where we were going, if there was somewhere to go to.

  • 7

    February 7th

    We report: many people talk about bringing the Moon back to other people, but we take offense to that concept. The Moon looks great where it is and we would feel terrible should she be taken away. This is a Public Service Announcement: please, do not steal the Moon.

  • 8

    February 8th

    We report, today again, a new sky. We do wonder, sometimes, looking at the sky - have we seen this before, is this really the first time we are seeing this cloud? But of course, whatever happens, each time we look up (every few minutes, every few seconds), we see a different sky.

  • 9

    February 9th

    We report: we have walked in mud for most of the day, the wet earth grabbing our feet with each step as though with the intent to swallow us whole. We have rain in our eyes, our pockets are also full of rainwater, and it keeps on falling. We think we might never get dry again.

  • 10

    February 10th

    We report, with every bit of yellow sunlight, we get caught up in all the golden hours we have experienced before. The golden hour; a moment frozen in time, a suspension of something sweet, a complete abstraction that makes everything so different and familiar at the same time.

  • 11

    February 11th

    We report: a sky bright and blue with only a handful of clouds; our first sunburn of the year. The cold wind that kept our cheeks red throughout the day made us forget about the Sun.

  • 12

    February 12th

    We report a purple haze in the sky. It is hard to tell if the scattered lilac hue is coming from above or below the clouds, but everything around us has turned purple too, and it is like a dream. Not a bad one, not a good one either, but it feels like an invention of our mind.

  • 13

    February 13th

    We report: it has been winter for long enough that we had forgotten about the existence of fireflies. Tonight though, as we stand at the edge of the city, watching the lights turn off one by one, we are thinking about them.

  • 14

    February 14th

    We report rain again today. There is something strange about the rain, that before it falls, it is just a cloud, and once it has fallen, it is just water. Rain is only ever really rain as it falls; a short-lived existence, always in motion from its beginning to its end.

  • 15

    February 15th

    We came out of the woods to see the sky split in two, and to feel the wind rise up, moving Eastwards. Along with it, the heavy blanket of clouds advanced further, casting dark shadows onto the countryside. We followed it through the windbreaks until it dissipated.

  • 16

    February 16th

    We report: today, we have lived many days. The sky has cycled through every season, and we with it. The fog, the Sun, the rain and the hail, and then the Sun again after that, and only the wet soil left to prove everything that came before. It is a good day to be alive.

  • 17

    February 17th

    We report that, if indeed the Moon is a piece of the Earth that was torn off and projected into space, then it makes sense, that we would feel kinship looking at her. A little piece of home, a few hundred thousand miles away from home.

  • 18

    February 18th

    We report: a green hill on a winter day reminds us that Spring is not too far ahead, and in the wind that keeps folding the grass we found something that we remember. This is not it yet, just a whisper, a rumour that will build - but this is what time is like, insidious.

  • 19

    February 19th

    We report: this is a sky to put you to sleep. Everything all horizontal and stretched out, the colours blurred into one another. Make a place for yourself in the sky, in between the clouds, so you can rest, so you can close your eyes and sleep; this is for you, just like this.

  • 20

    February 20th

    We report today: we did not think we were the type of person who collects things. We lose interest rather quickly, five seashells, ten pretty rocks, and scattered postcards in drawers. It turns out, though, we have been building a rather extensive cloud collection ( in our mind).

  • 21

    February 21st

    We report: it always feels a little bit wrong, watching the sea from a distance. It feels like we should come closer, on the beach, and then once we are on the beach, it feels like we should get even closer, maybe walk into it. A bit too cold for that, today, though.

  • 22

    February 22nd

    We report that we lost the morning to the fog, close to the wet grass so as to try and not get lost in the sky. Our expert talks about the way fog blurs time as well as our depth of field; we think of the way the landscape is revealed in thin slices as we walk through the clouds.

  • 23

    February 23rd

    We report: February, so short and so long at the same time - shorter by the number of days, longer by the amount of sunlight growing every day. This day ended with a flourish, something of a blossom in the sky.

  • 24

    February 24th

    We report, in the blue sky, our Earth's best traveler in the form of this little cloud. We cannot help but feel compassion for the long way here and ahead, and though water never really arrives anywhere, never really finds an end to its journey, we wish it safe travels.

  • 25

    February 25th

    We report: the earthshine on the Moon makes it look like someone tried to shine the Moon with a rag, as one would do with silverware - and then gave up on the way. Every night they will give up a little bit earlier, until the new Moon. Everyone deserves a break, after all.

  • 26

    February 26th

    We report a salty kind of day. We know we will taste salt on our lips for days after going near the ocean; and we will also find sand in our shoes, too, even in the pairs we did not wear to the beach. Is it we who cling to the sea, or is it the ocean following us everywhere?

  • 27

    February 27th

    We report the kind of Sun we can bear to look at, half-hidden, timid, small, on a cold morning. We remember the summer Sun, big, white-hot, heavy. Some days we miss it, even its inescapable heat. Today, though, this is enough and even better, something to match our soul.

  • 28

    February 28th

    We report: we are somewhere where there is sky below and sky above, and the weather is a lot harder to determine in these conditions. Is it cloudy? Yes, yes indeed, below us is a sea of clouds as far as the eye can see - is it sunny? Well, yes, that as well, actually.

February 2022

January 1st We report the Sun, right there, behind this cloud. It is the first time we have seen it this year, and it is just as we remember it (very bright). The temperature is quite high for a winter day, and there is just a little bit of a breeze going on.  

January 1st

We report the Sun, right there, behind this cloud. It is the first time we have seen it this year, and it is just as we remember it (very bright). The temperature is quite high for a winter day, and there is just a little bit of a breeze going on.

 

January 2nd We report a cumulonimbus with snow praecipitatio. According to our expert, the word "praecipitatio" is Latin for "I fall". We were unaware of the fact that our expert knows any manner of Latin, and we will be fact-checking this claim.

January 2nd

We report a cumulonimbus with snow praecipitatio. According to our expert, the word "praecipitatio" is Latin for "I fall". We were unaware of the fact that our expert knows any manner of Latin, and we will be fact-checking this claim.

January 3rd We report: we are still early into Winter, but we can already see the Sun setting just a little bit later. Tomorrow, Earth will be at its closest to the Sun, a phenomenon that we call "perihelion". We are quite certain that we will not be noticing any difference down here.

January 3rd

We report: we are still early into Winter, but we can already see the Sun setting just a little bit later. Tomorrow, Earth will be at its closest to the Sun, a phenomenon that we call "perihelion". We are quite certain that we will not be noticing any difference down here.

January 4th We report, for a few minutes, the whole world drenched in golden light, the Sun on our face. After a long night, after a good rest; there is a lot to do today, but we feel like we might be able to do it all. And even if we do not, there will be tomorrow still. One step at a time.

January 4th

We report, for a few minutes, the whole world drenched in golden light, the Sun on our face. After a long night, after a good rest; there is a lot to do today, but we feel like we might be able to do it all. And even if we do not, there will be tomorrow still. One step at a time.

January 5th We report: we can not count how many times either we or our expert have called "rainbow!" and eagerly pointed at the sky as though it would immediately disappear if we looked away. It is hard to even blink in the presence of rainbows.

January 5th

We report: we can not count how many times either we or our expert have called "rainbow!" and eagerly pointed at the sky as though it would immediately disappear if we looked away. It is hard to even blink in the presence of rainbows.

January 6th We report that throughout the day, we wondered whether the morning fog had never completely lifted, or whether the evening mist had settled in early. The paths were marshy from the constant rain of the past weeks, and the humidity had the cold sharp and clingy.  

January 6th

We report that throughout the day, we wondered whether the morning fog had never completely lifted, or whether the evening mist had settled in early. The paths were marshy from the constant rain of the past weeks, and the humidity had the cold sharp and clingy.

 

January 7th We report: it has started snowing midday and it has not stopped since then. Even so, the layer of snow on the ground is still rather thin and patchy in some spots, maybe on account of the hail of this morning. The night is quiet.

January 7th

We report: it has started snowing midday and it has not stopped since then. Even so, the layer of snow on the ground is still rather thin and patchy in some spots, maybe on account of the hail of this morning. The night is quiet.

January 8th We report cold high pressure building up to a strong cold front. The winds are going North by NorthEast, 5 to 10 knots. The way we see and feel it, all in all, it is pretty cold, and we are getting ready to go back home.  

January 8th

We report cold high pressure building up to a strong cold front. The winds are going North by NorthEast, 5 to 10 knots. The way we see and feel it, all in all, it is pretty cold, and we are getting ready to go back home.

 

January 9th We report: after a storm that lasted for hours, we find ourselves noticing the sudden lightness in the air. It is already late, but we can still hear some birds, and it almost feels like a different day now.  

January 9th

We report: after a storm that lasted for hours, we find ourselves noticing the sudden lightness in the air. It is already late, but we can still hear some birds, and it almost feels like a different day now.

 

January 10th We report a day for clouds. In the place where we are today, the sky stays grey for most of the season. This could be a synonym of monotony, but there are subtle changes; the way the light manages to pierce through the clouds at times, the blue and purple undertones in the grey.

January 10th

We report a day for clouds. In the place where we are today, the sky stays grey for most of the season. This could be a synonym of monotony, but there are subtle changes; the way the light manages to pierce through the clouds at times, the blue and purple undertones in the grey.

January 11th We report: in the sky, long icy threads unspooled,  glistening in the sunlight. Cirrus fibratus occur at high altitudes, typically over 6000 meters, when dry air rises towards the top of the troposphere. The way they are all spread out might mean a change of weather, though.  

January 11th

We report: in the sky, long icy threads unspooled,  glistening in the sunlight. Cirrus fibratus occur at high altitudes, typically over 6000 meters, when dry air rises towards the top of the troposphere. The way they are all spread out might mean a change of weather, though.

 

January 12th We report a drizzly evening, the sort of rain that is halfway through a mist - it is not so much falling as we are walking into it, and the droplets catch onto our hair and eyelashes. A silent rain, yet our socks are soaked through and our clothes stick to our skin.

January 12th

We report a drizzly evening, the sort of rain that is halfway through a mist - it is not so much falling as we are walking into it, and the droplets catch onto our hair and eyelashes. A silent rain, yet our socks are soaked through and our clothes stick to our skin.

January 13th We report: the sunrise after we failed to get any sleep last night. As much as we love sunrises, as much as we crave seeing them, they feel treacherous after sleepless nights. Colourful reminder of the tosses and turns of the night that just ended, the defeat of an insomniac.

January 13th

We report: the sunrise after we failed to get any sleep last night. As much as we love sunrises, as much as we crave seeing them, they feel treacherous after sleepless nights. Colourful reminder of the tosses and turns of the night that just ended, the defeat of an insomniac.

January 14th We report wet charcoal clouds smeared across the sky. The sky is heavy as can be, and the whole world around us is dark as though the night could fall any moment. We are waiting for the rain.

January 14th

We report wet charcoal clouds smeared across the sky. The sky is heavy as can be, and the whole world around us is dark as though the night could fall any moment. We are waiting for the rain.

January 15th We report: the faint artificial glow from the lights of the nearby town has flooded the sky, reflected by the thick blanket of snow on the ground. The roads are blocked off; we heard a bird take off from a tree, and the sound echoed in our ears for what felt like minutes.

January 15th

We report: the faint artificial glow from the lights of the nearby town has flooded the sky, reflected by the thick blanket of snow on the ground. The roads are blocked off; we heard a bird take off from a tree, and the sound echoed in our ears for what felt like minutes.

January 16th We report a pileus cloud accessory that we were lucky enough to see, as it is bound to disappear quite quickly. Pileus clouds tend to form on days when thunderstorms occur, due to air displacements and changes in temperatures; we think that they are excellent accessories.

January 16th

We report a pileus cloud accessory that we were lucky enough to see, as it is bound to disappear quite quickly. Pileus clouds tend to form on days when thunderstorms occur, due to air displacements and changes in temperatures; we think that they are excellent accessories.

January 17th We report: it is freezing out today. We went back in after a short walk before the sunrise, and our fingers are burning as they are thawing out. We can see the colours in the sky getting brighter and louder while everything down here is still dark and calm.

January 17th

We report: it is freezing out today. We went back in after a short walk before the sunrise, and our fingers are burning as they are thawing out. We can see the colours in the sky getting brighter and louder while everything down here is still dark and calm.

January 18th We report what seems to be a jellyfish migration in the form of cirrus uncinus. They are moving at a very high and very cold point in the troposphere, over 7000 m high and between -40°C and -50°C. These are very resilient jellyfish, and we wish them safe travels.

January 18th

We report what seems to be a jellyfish migration in the form of cirrus uncinus. They are moving at a very high and very cold point in the troposphere, over 7000 m high and between -40°C and -50°C. These are very resilient jellyfish, and we wish them safe travels.

January 19th We report: out of this cumulonimbus, we saw one single lightning bolt come out, followed several seconds after by thunder. After this, the sky stayed dark and still for hours, but the thunder stayed, crackling and grumbling from deep within the sky for so long we got used to it.

January 19th

We report: out of this cumulonimbus, we saw one single lightning bolt come out, followed several seconds after by thunder. After this, the sky stayed dark and still for hours, but the thunder stayed, crackling and grumbling from deep within the sky for so long we got used to it.

January 20th We report the Moon, once more, with a different face tonight. This once, we were not looking for the Moon. The sky was too cloudy to hope to see her or any stars, but we got up in the middle of the night to a house flooded with moonlight.

January 20th

We report the Moon, once more, with a different face tonight. This once, we were not looking for the Moon. The sky was too cloudy to hope to see her or any stars, but we got up in the middle of the night to a house flooded with moonlight.

January 21st We report: the sun rose from behind the horizon, and then, later on, from behind the clouds. We feel very good about having witnessed two sunrises today, and we will carry the sentiment with us through the day.

January 21st

We report: the sun rose from behind the horizon, and then, later on, from behind the clouds. We feel very good about having witnessed two sunrises today, and we will carry the sentiment with us through the day.

January 22nd We report: the birds, in and of a wave that never crashes. We are trying to decipher what they are whispering about through the flutter of their wings; the birds, all the birds, like one bird, here and gone again.

January 22nd

We report: the birds, in and of a wave that never crashes. We are trying to decipher what they are whispering about through the flutter of their wings; the birds, all the birds, like one bird, here and gone again.

January 23rd We report a little bit of blue in this cloudy sky. Some twenty years ago, there were a few months when the average colour of the universe was thought to be a pale turquoise. This was the result of a mistake, but we do like to think that the colour of our universe is blue indeed.

January 23rd

We report a little bit of blue in this cloudy sky. Some twenty years ago, there were a few months when the average colour of the universe was thought to be a pale turquoise. This was the result of a mistake, but we do like to think that the colour of our universe is blue indeed.

January 24th We report this habit we have; at night, when we walk by a window, we always go up to it and press our face against the glass. We stay there long enough to figure out if we can see any stars in the sky, and if we can, we cannot help but stay there and forget about time.

January 24th

We report this habit we have; at night, when we walk by a window, we always go up to it and press our face against the glass. We stay there long enough to figure out if we can see any stars in the sky, and if we can, we cannot help but stay there and forget about time.

January 25th We report a storm system in the sunset light. It is hard to say whether we can feel any change in the air that could announce a thunderstorm - it is too cold for that kind of subtlety. We are rushing home either way; with the sun going down, chances are it will get even colder.

January 25th

We report a storm system in the sunset light. It is hard to say whether we can feel any change in the air that could announce a thunderstorm - it is too cold for that kind of subtlety. We are rushing home either way; with the sun going down, chances are it will get even colder.

January 26th We report: the motion of the rain, slower in the distance than we ever see it up close. Judging by the wind direction at the moment, we are pretty sure that these clouds are coming our way, and fast at that. The sky is getting darker by the minute.

January 26th

We report: the motion of the rain, slower in the distance than we ever see it up close. Judging by the wind direction at the moment, we are pretty sure that these clouds are coming our way, and fast at that. The sky is getting darker by the minute.

January 27th We report what our expert calls cirrus homogenitus, and what we call contrails. We know that there are always many planes flying over our heads in a day, but it is always surprising to see just how many split the sky when these contrails stay in the sky for longer than usual.  

January 27th

We report what our expert calls cirrus homogenitus, and what we call contrails. We know that there are always many planes flying over our heads in a day, but it is always surprising to see just how many split the sky when these contrails stay in the sky for longer than usual.

 

January 28th We report: in the valley, fog will fall and stay for days on end. The sky is opaque and the lowest it can be; as we walk side by side with our expert, we are hesitant to speak louder than a whisper, even though there is no wind to carry our words.

January 28th

We report: in the valley, fog will fall and stay for days on end. The sky is opaque and the lowest it can be; as we walk side by side with our expert, we are hesitant to speak louder than a whisper, even though there is no wind to carry our words.

January 29th We report: daybreak at sea, the gulls are eating breakfast under the first rays of sunshine of the morning. It rained through the night, and even here where the air is always humid, we can feel a difference now that the clouds are parting.  

January 29th

We report: daybreak at sea, the gulls are eating breakfast under the first rays of sunshine of the morning. It rained through the night, and even here where the air is always humid, we can feel a difference now that the clouds are parting.

 

January 30th We report no bad clouds, ever. Sure, some are less common than others, some are higher, bigger; but we look at the sky and we think all clouds are good and worth looking at. The fact that we spend most of our days looking at clouds does not make our opinion biased.

January 30th

We report no bad clouds, ever. Sure, some are less common than others, some are higher, bigger; but we look at the sky and we think all clouds are good and worth looking at. The fact that we spend most of our days looking at clouds does not make our opinion biased.

January 31st We report some cirrus in an otherwise big blue sky. We have heard from our expert that this might result from a rise on the synoptic scale. The truth is that we are now getting a crick in our neck, and we are no closer to understanding what this means.

January 31st

We report some cirrus in an otherwise big blue sky. We have heard from our expert that this might result from a rise on the synoptic scale. The truth is that we are now getting a crick in our neck, and we are no closer to understanding what this means.

  • 1

    January 1st

    We report the Sun, right there, behind this cloud. It is the first time we have seen it this year, and it is just as we remember it (very bright). The temperature is quite high for a winter day, and there is just a little bit of a breeze going on.

     

  • 2

    January 2nd

    We report a cumulonimbus with snow praecipitatio. According to our expert, the word "praecipitatio" is Latin for "I fall". We were unaware of the fact that our expert knows any manner of Latin, and we will be fact-checking this claim.

  • 3

    January 3rd

    We report: we are still early into Winter, but we can already see the Sun setting just a little bit later. Tomorrow, Earth will be at its closest to the Sun, a phenomenon that we call "perihelion". We are quite certain that we will not be noticing any difference down here.

  • 4

    January 4th

    We report, for a few minutes, the whole world drenched in golden light, the Sun on our face. After a long night, after a good rest; there is a lot to do today, but we feel like we might be able to do it all. And even if we do not, there will be tomorrow still. One step at a time.

  • 5

    January 5th

    We report: we can not count how many times either we or our expert have called "rainbow!" and eagerly pointed at the sky as though it would immediately disappear if we looked away. It is hard to even blink in the presence of rainbows.

  • 6

    January 6th

    We report that throughout the day, we wondered whether the morning fog had never completely lifted, or whether the evening mist had settled in early. The paths were marshy from the constant rain of the past weeks, and the humidity had the cold sharp and clingy.

     

  • 7

    January 7th

    We report: it has started snowing midday and it has not stopped since then. Even so, the layer of snow on the ground is still rather thin and patchy in some spots, maybe on account of the hail of this morning. The night is quiet.

  • 8

    January 8th

    We report cold high pressure building up to a strong cold front. The winds are going North by NorthEast, 5 to 10 knots. The way we see and feel it, all in all, it is pretty cold, and we are getting ready to go back home.

     

  • 9

    January 9th

    We report: after a storm that lasted for hours, we find ourselves noticing the sudden lightness in the air. It is already late, but we can still hear some birds, and it almost feels like a different day now.

     

  • 10

    January 10th

    We report a day for clouds. In the place where we are today, the sky stays grey for most of the season. This could be a synonym of monotony, but there are subtle changes; the way the light manages to pierce through the clouds at times, the blue and purple undertones in the grey.

  • 11

    January 11th

    We report: in the sky, long icy threads unspooled,  glistening in the sunlight. Cirrus fibratus occur at high altitudes, typically over 6000 meters, when dry air rises towards the top of the troposphere. The way they are all spread out might mean a change of weather, though.

     

  • 12

    January 12th

    We report a drizzly evening, the sort of rain that is halfway through a mist - it is not so much falling as we are walking into it, and the droplets catch onto our hair and eyelashes. A silent rain, yet our socks are soaked through and our clothes stick to our skin.

  • 13

    January 13th

    We report: the sunrise after we failed to get any sleep last night. As much as we love sunrises, as much as we crave seeing them, they feel treacherous after sleepless nights. Colourful reminder of the tosses and turns of the night that just ended, the defeat of an insomniac.

  • 14

    January 14th

    We report wet charcoal clouds smeared across the sky. The sky is heavy as can be, and the whole world around us is dark as though the night could fall any moment. We are waiting for the rain.

  • 15

    January 15th

    We report: the faint artificial glow from the lights of the nearby town has flooded the sky, reflected by the thick blanket of snow on the ground. The roads are blocked off; we heard a bird take off from a tree, and the sound echoed in our ears for what felt like minutes.

  • 16

    January 16th

    We report a pileus cloud accessory that we were lucky enough to see, as it is bound to disappear quite quickly. Pileus clouds tend to form on days when thunderstorms occur, due to air displacements and changes in temperatures; we think that they are excellent accessories.

  • 17

    January 17th

    We report: it is freezing out today. We went back in after a short walk before the sunrise, and our fingers are burning as they are thawing out. We can see the colours in the sky getting brighter and louder while everything down here is still dark and calm.

  • 18

    January 18th

    We report what seems to be a jellyfish migration in the form of cirrus uncinus. They are moving at a very high and very cold point in the troposphere, over 7000 m high and between -40°C and -50°C. These are very resilient jellyfish, and we wish them safe travels.

  • 19

    January 19th

    We report: out of this cumulonimbus, we saw one single lightning bolt come out, followed several seconds after by thunder. After this, the sky stayed dark and still for hours, but the thunder stayed, crackling and grumbling from deep within the sky for so long we got used to it.

  • 20

    January 20th

    We report the Moon, once more, with a different face tonight. This once, we were not looking for the Moon. The sky was too cloudy to hope to see her or any stars, but we got up in the middle of the night to a house flooded with moonlight.

  • 21

    January 21st

    We report: the sun rose from behind the horizon, and then, later on, from behind the clouds. We feel very good about having witnessed two sunrises today, and we will carry the sentiment with us through the day.

  • 22

    January 22nd

    We report: the birds, in and of a wave that never crashes. We are trying to decipher what they are whispering about through the flutter of their wings; the birds, all the birds, like one bird, here and gone again.

  • 23

    January 23rd

    We report a little bit of blue in this cloudy sky. Some twenty years ago, there were a few months when the average colour of the universe was thought to be a pale turquoise. This was the result of a mistake, but we do like to think that the colour of our universe is blue indeed.

  • 24

    January 24th

    We report this habit we have; at night, when we walk by a window, we always go up to it and press our face against the glass. We stay there long enough to figure out if we can see any stars in the sky, and if we can, we cannot help but stay there and forget about time.

  • 25

    January 25th

    We report a storm system in the sunset light. It is hard to say whether we can feel any change in the air that could announce a thunderstorm - it is too cold for that kind of subtlety. We are rushing home either way; with the sun going down, chances are it will get even colder.

  • 26

    January 26th

    We report: the motion of the rain, slower in the distance than we ever see it up close. Judging by the wind direction at the moment, we are pretty sure that these clouds are coming our way, and fast at that. The sky is getting darker by the minute.

  • 27

    January 27th

    We report what our expert calls cirrus homogenitus, and what we call contrails. We know that there are always many planes flying over our heads in a day, but it is always surprising to see just how many split the sky when these contrails stay in the sky for longer than usual.

     

  • 28

    January 28th

    We report: in the valley, fog will fall and stay for days on end. The sky is opaque and the lowest it can be; as we walk side by side with our expert, we are hesitant to speak louder than a whisper, even though there is no wind to carry our words.

  • 29

    January 29th

    We report: daybreak at sea, the gulls are eating breakfast under the first rays of sunshine of the morning. It rained through the night, and even here where the air is always humid, we can feel a difference now that the clouds are parting.

     

  • 30

    January 30th

    We report no bad clouds, ever. Sure, some are less common than others, some are higher, bigger; but we look at the sky and we think all clouds are good and worth looking at. The fact that we spend most of our days looking at clouds does not make our opinion biased.

  • 31

    January 31st

    We report some cirrus in an otherwise big blue sky. We have heard from our expert that this might result from a rise on the synoptic scale. The truth is that we are now getting a crick in our neck, and we are no closer to understanding what this means.

January 2022

December 1st We report a humid night in the city. The sky is catching all the lights and has remained a strange mix of grey and purple since the sunset. There is a light drizzle going on. It is time to go home and get some rest.

December 1st

We report a humid night in the city. The sky is catching all the lights and has remained a strange mix of grey and purple since the sunset. There is a light drizzle going on. It is time to go home and get some rest.

December 2nd We report: there is some light dripping down from over the clouds, moving along the places where they open up. Today, the weather has been ever-changing, and this is a lull in between showers. The wind is picking up again, and we wonder how long we have until it starts raining.  

December 2nd

We report: there is some light dripping down from over the clouds, moving along the places where they open up. Today, the weather has been ever-changing, and this is a lull in between showers. The wind is picking up again, and we wonder how long we have until it starts raining.

 

December 3rd We report: "lonely as a cloud", he said, but these days we notice how the wind brings clouds together, how they embrace one another and somehow become one. There was a storm coming or leaving today; the clouds kept rising and blooming in a beautiful way.  

December 3rd

We report: "lonely as a cloud", he said, but these days we notice how the wind brings clouds together, how they embrace one another and somehow become one. There was a storm coming or leaving today; the clouds kept rising and blooming in a beautiful way.

 

December 4th We report lenticularis over the mountains. Stationary clouds remind us of ships on a windless sea; we keep expecting them to float along elsewhere, but they are tethered to this specific part of the sky, and now so are we as we watch them.

December 4th

We report lenticularis over the mountains. Stationary clouds remind us of ships on a windless sea; we keep expecting them to float along elsewhere, but they are tethered to this specific part of the sky, and now so are we as we watch them.

December 5th We report: it is morning now, and the morning is so harsh at times. We used to feel so sad at dawn, perhaps in a contradictory sort of emotion; things ending and beginning, and the melancholia that comes with those. These days, it gets easier to deal with the passage of time.  

December 5th

We report: it is morning now, and the morning is so harsh at times. We used to feel so sad at dawn, perhaps in a contradictory sort of emotion; things ending and beginning, and the melancholia that comes with those. These days, it gets easier to deal with the passage of time.

 

December 6th We report: it had been raining hard all day, the sky low and opaque. The air remained humid throughout the late afternoon but at some point, the clouds cleared out. It was already dark, and the moon rose among the stars.

December 6th

We report: it had been raining hard all day, the sky low and opaque. The air remained humid throughout the late afternoon but at some point, the clouds cleared out. It was already dark, and the moon rose among the stars.

December 7th We report, today, it is windy-windy; our words get swallowed back as soon as we speak them, and it is almost hard to breathe when we face the wind. Some trees have lost their last leaves, and our expert is holding on to their hat.

December 7th

We report, today, it is windy-windy; our words get swallowed back as soon as we speak them, and it is almost hard to breathe when we face the wind. Some trees have lost their last leaves, and our expert is holding on to their hat.

December 8th We report: it is true that it is cold today, and it is also true that we embrace things differently in the cold. We bought our first oranges of the season and we looked at the Sun through one of the slices. The acidity of the oranges cut through the frozen air, bold and bright.  

December 8th

We report: it is true that it is cold today, and it is also true that we embrace things differently in the cold. We bought our first oranges of the season and we looked at the Sun through one of the slices. The acidity of the oranges cut through the frozen air, bold and bright.

 

December 9th We report a storm system with capillatus that is still expanding over us; we keep trying to tilt our heads to see how it would look upside down. We get the impression of some waves crashing down in an excruciatingly slow movement.

December 9th

We report a storm system with capillatus that is still expanding over us; we keep trying to tilt our heads to see how it would look upside down. We get the impression of some waves crashing down in an excruciatingly slow movement.

December 10th We report: auroras are silent phenomenons, but we always hear some sort of a symphony rise up inside of us when we watch them. We are thinking about the solar wind, and all these things moving around us that we usually cannot see.

December 10th

We report: auroras are silent phenomenons, but we always hear some sort of a symphony rise up inside of us when we watch them. We are thinking about the solar wind, and all these things moving around us that we usually cannot see.

December 11th We report an exceptionally bright sky for this December day. The quiet flock of altocumulus in the pale blue made us think that today was never going to end - and even when it ended, we felt like some of the blue might have rubbed off on us, etched there to last the winter.

December 11th

We report an exceptionally bright sky for this December day. The quiet flock of altocumulus in the pale blue made us think that today was never going to end - and even when it ended, we felt like some of the blue might have rubbed off on us, etched there to last the winter.

December 12th We report: this is like a very small portion of the sky in which we are seeing the Sun rise. It is otherwise raining, which is also a nice thing in itself, but the colours there are making it seem like it is much warmer than it actually is.  

December 12th

We report: this is like a very small portion of the sky in which we are seeing the Sun rise. It is otherwise raining, which is also a nice thing in itself, but the colours there are making it seem like it is much warmer than it actually is.

 

December 13th We report: it is our understanding that the sky was too full of clouds, to the extent that it had to drop a few of them over the mountains. We, down there, have been experiencing all manners of spillovers; fog, rain, hail, and snow, to name a few.

December 13th

We report: it is our understanding that the sky was too full of clouds, to the extent that it had to drop a few of them over the mountains. We, down there, have been experiencing all manners of spillovers; fog, rain, hail, and snow, to name a few.

December 14th We report that we are diving right into the night ocean - minute after minute, we go deeper and the sky grows darker. It is still early, but that is relative during the days leading up to the winter solstice. We think that we have been losing hours to the night.

December 14th

We report that we are diving right into the night ocean - minute after minute, we go deeper and the sky grows darker. It is still early, but that is relative during the days leading up to the winter solstice. We think that we have been losing hours to the night.

December 15th We report: we interrupt the course of your day or night to present this specific sky, at this specific time. What you will make of it is between you and yourself, and we profoundly respect that notion. With the hope that this interlude will have been a positive one, goodbye.

December 15th

We report: we interrupt the course of your day or night to present this specific sky, at this specific time. What you will make of it is between you and yourself, and we profoundly respect that notion. With the hope that this interlude will have been a positive one, goodbye.

December 16th We report that we come to the sea for the salt, we think. It is not all there is to it, but there is something about what it smells like, what it tastes like, and even what it feels like. It feels a little bit like having cried for a long time when we come back home.

December 16th

We report that we come to the sea for the salt, we think. It is not all there is to it, but there is something about what it smells like, what it tastes like, and even what it feels like. It feels a little bit like having cried for a long time when we come back home.

December 17th We report: we have barely seen the Sun lately. It seems that it will simply not rise very high over roofs and treetops, and so we stay in the shadows for most of our days. The solstice is just a few days away.

December 17th

We report: we have barely seen the Sun lately. It seems that it will simply not rise very high over roofs and treetops, and so we stay in the shadows for most of our days. The solstice is just a few days away.

December 18th We report that there is some weaving happening in the sky at the moment; it is hard to tell which thread came first, over and under which. The fabric it has formed seems flimsy at best, and the wind surely will scatter it all before long.

December 18th

We report that there is some weaving happening in the sky at the moment; it is hard to tell which thread came first, over and under which. The fabric it has formed seems flimsy at best, and the wind surely will scatter it all before long.

December 19th We report: it is a cold night and the clouds keep passing over the Moon. Every few minutes, we start shivering and wondering whether it is truly worth it to stay out there, and then the clouds part and we get a glimpse of her. It is worth it, it seems.

December 19th

We report: it is a cold night and the clouds keep passing over the Moon. Every few minutes, we start shivering and wondering whether it is truly worth it to stay out there, and then the clouds part and we get a glimpse of her. It is worth it, it seems.

December 20th We report, today, there it was again, a storm. We live in intermissions sometimes, counting the days between storms like we keep waiting for them. This one filled up the sky like a drop of ink in a glass of water, fast and easy.

December 20th

We report, today, there it was again, a storm. We live in intermissions sometimes, counting the days between storms like we keep waiting for them. This one filled up the sky like a drop of ink in a glass of water, fast and easy.

December 21st We report: it is the first day of astronomical Winter. When we woke up this morning, the bedroom was cold, and some puddles outside were frozen. Winter has already been there for a little while, but we are imagining that we can find a different smell in the air today.

December 21st

We report: it is the first day of astronomical Winter. When we woke up this morning, the bedroom was cold, and some puddles outside were frozen. Winter has already been there for a little while, but we are imagining that we can find a different smell in the air today.

December 22nd We report that there was some snow through the night, and then probably some rain. Everything froze over during the coldest hours, but now it is already starting to melt under the noon Sun. We would know more about what happened if our expert hadn't slept on the job.

December 22nd

We report that there was some snow through the night, and then probably some rain. Everything froze over during the coldest hours, but now it is already starting to melt under the noon Sun. We would know more about what happened if our expert hadn't slept on the job.

December 23rd We report: the fog stayed particularly low this morning, hovering over the sea and the harbour but never coming up high enough to reach the city. From the heights we stood on, we watched the clouds slowly get taken away by the wind.

December 23rd

We report: the fog stayed particularly low this morning, hovering over the sea and the harbour but never coming up high enough to reach the city. From the heights we stood on, we watched the clouds slowly get taken away by the wind.

December 24th We report that the sky was more of everything today. So tall, deep, and blue; the wind was getting our eyes teary and the Sun was bright as can be at the beginning of winter. The clouds were passing by at the same speed we were walking, and we stayed in their company for a while.

December 24th

We report that the sky was more of everything today. So tall, deep, and blue; the wind was getting our eyes teary and the Sun was bright as can be at the beginning of winter. The clouds were passing by at the same speed we were walking, and we stayed in their company for a while.

December 25th We report: oftentimes we keep track of the nightfall through quick glances at the window. The sky changes just fast enough that we can almost notice it turning bluer by the second, and the low light starts making us a little bit sleepy even though the afternoon is not over yet.

December 25th

We report: oftentimes we keep track of the nightfall through quick glances at the window. The sky changes just fast enough that we can almost notice it turning bluer by the second, and the low light starts making us a little bit sleepy even though the afternoon is not over yet.

December 26th We report that, sometimes, we walk the hills thinking about "billions of years ago, what was the landscape here?". This is not a question meant for an answer, we just think a lot more on days like these. Everything is grey and humid, and the sky is still. So our mind races.  

December 26th

We report that, sometimes, we walk the hills thinking about "billions of years ago, what was the landscape here?". This is not a question meant for an answer, we just think a lot more on days like these. Everything is grey and humid, and the sky is still. So our mind races.

 

December 27th We report: there is something to the way birds are always going away in the cold, though we know that is not something to feel emotional about. They look very small up there in the sky, and we know they are leaving, and we wonder whether they will come back. We hope so.

December 27th

We report: there is something to the way birds are always going away in the cold, though we know that is not something to feel emotional about. They look very small up there in the sky, and we know they are leaving, and we wonder whether they will come back. We hope so.

December 28th We report ripples in the sky that were most likely caused by some gravity waves. We see them in the ocean all the time, but the slow movement of these clouds is something entirely different to watch.

December 28th

We report ripples in the sky that were most likely caused by some gravity waves. We see them in the ocean all the time, but the slow movement of these clouds is something entirely different to watch.

December 29th We report: however counterintuitive that may be, stargazing really is generally a better experience in the winter. The cold dry air is not as hazy as it gets in the summer. It is also our biased view that the best constellations come out during the winter months.

December 29th

We report: however counterintuitive that may be, stargazing really is generally a better experience in the winter. The cold dry air is not as hazy as it gets in the summer. It is also our biased view that the best constellations come out during the winter months.

December 30th We report the waves that crashed on the shore as we walked along the seaside today. There were many, strong enough to push and pull the biggest pebbles. The seafoam that climbed high on the beach was dense, and the sea birds kept poking around it for food.  

December 30th

We report the waves that crashed on the shore as we walked along the seaside today. There were many, strong enough to push and pull the biggest pebbles. The seafoam that climbed high on the beach was dense, and the sea birds kept poking around it for food.

 

December 31st We report: we have heard from our expert that the year is ending today, which is understandable; this does seem like a good point in time to finish up. We hope that our planet will do a nice spin around the sun during this next year as well.

December 31st

We report: we have heard from our expert that the year is ending today, which is understandable; this does seem like a good point in time to finish up. We hope that our planet will do a nice spin around the sun during this next year as well.

  • 1

    December 1st

    We report a humid night in the city. The sky is catching all the lights and has remained a strange mix of grey and purple since the sunset. There is a light drizzle going on. It is time to go home and get some rest.

  • 2

    December 2nd

    We report: there is some light dripping down from over the clouds, moving along the places where they open up. Today, the weather has been ever-changing, and this is a lull in between showers. The wind is picking up again, and we wonder how long we have until it starts raining.

     

  • 3

    December 3rd

    We report: "lonely as a cloud", he said, but these days we notice how the wind brings clouds together, how they embrace one another and somehow become one. There was a storm coming or leaving today; the clouds kept rising and blooming in a beautiful way.

     

  • 4

    December 4th

    We report lenticularis over the mountains. Stationary clouds remind us of ships on a windless sea; we keep expecting them to float along elsewhere, but they are tethered to this specific part of the sky, and now so are we as we watch them.

  • 5

    December 5th

    We report: it is morning now, and the morning is so harsh at times. We used to feel so sad at dawn, perhaps in a contradictory sort of emotion; things ending and beginning, and the melancholia that comes with those. These days, it gets easier to deal with the passage of time.

     

  • 6

    December 6th

    We report: it had been raining hard all day, the sky low and opaque. The air remained humid throughout the late afternoon but at some point, the clouds cleared out. It was already dark, and the moon rose among the stars.

  • 7

    December 7th

    We report, today, it is windy-windy; our words get swallowed back as soon as we speak them, and it is almost hard to breathe when we face the wind. Some trees have lost their last leaves, and our expert is holding on to their hat.

  • 8

    December 8th

    We report: it is true that it is cold today, and it is also true that we embrace things differently in the cold. We bought our first oranges of the season and we looked at the Sun through one of the slices. The acidity of the oranges cut through the frozen air, bold and bright.

     

  • 9

    December 9th

    We report a storm system with capillatus that is still expanding over us; we keep trying to tilt our heads to see how it would look upside down. We get the impression of some waves crashing down in an excruciatingly slow movement.

  • 10

    December 10th

    We report: auroras are silent phenomenons, but we always hear some sort of a symphony rise up inside of us when we watch them. We are thinking about the solar wind, and all these things moving around us that we usually cannot see.

  • 11

    December 11th

    We report an exceptionally bright sky for this December day. The quiet flock of altocumulus in the pale blue made us think that today was never going to end - and even when it ended, we felt like some of the blue might have rubbed off on us, etched there to last the winter.

  • 12

    December 12th

    We report: this is like a very small portion of the sky in which we are seeing the Sun rise. It is otherwise raining, which is also a nice thing in itself, but the colours there are making it seem like it is much warmer than it actually is.

     

  • 13

    December 13th

    We report: it is our understanding that the sky was too full of clouds, to the extent that it had to drop a few of them over the mountains. We, down there, have been experiencing all manners of spillovers; fog, rain, hail, and snow, to name a few.

  • 14

    December 14th

    We report that we are diving right into the night ocean - minute after minute, we go deeper and the sky grows darker. It is still early, but that is relative during the days leading up to the winter solstice. We think that we have been losing hours to the night.

  • 15

    December 15th

    We report: we interrupt the course of your day or night to present this specific sky, at this specific time. What you will make of it is between you and yourself, and we profoundly respect that notion. With the hope that this interlude will have been a positive one, goodbye.

  • 16

    December 16th

    We report that we come to the sea for the salt, we think. It is not all there is to it, but there is something about what it smells like, what it tastes like, and even what it feels like. It feels a little bit like having cried for a long time when we come back home.

  • 17

    December 17th

    We report: we have barely seen the Sun lately. It seems that it will simply not rise very high over roofs and treetops, and so we stay in the shadows for most of our days. The solstice is just a few days away.

  • 18

    December 18th

    We report that there is some weaving happening in the sky at the moment; it is hard to tell which thread came first, over and under which. The fabric it has formed seems flimsy at best, and the wind surely will scatter it all before long.

  • 19

    December 19th

    We report: it is a cold night and the clouds keep passing over the Moon. Every few minutes, we start shivering and wondering whether it is truly worth it to stay out there, and then the clouds part and we get a glimpse of her. It is worth it, it seems.

  • 20

    December 20th

    We report, today, there it was again, a storm. We live in intermissions sometimes, counting the days between storms like we keep waiting for them. This one filled up the sky like a drop of ink in a glass of water, fast and easy.

  • 21

    December 21st

    We report: it is the first day of astronomical Winter. When we woke up this morning, the bedroom was cold, and some puddles outside were frozen. Winter has already been there for a little while, but we are imagining that we can find a different smell in the air today.

  • 22

    December 22nd

    We report that there was some snow through the night, and then probably some rain. Everything froze over during the coldest hours, but now it is already starting to melt under the noon Sun. We would know more about what happened if our expert hadn't slept on the job.

  • 23

    December 23rd

    We report: the fog stayed particularly low this morning, hovering over the sea and the harbour but never coming up high enough to reach the city. From the heights we stood on, we watched the clouds slowly get taken away by the wind.

  • 24

    December 24th

    We report that the sky was more of everything today. So tall, deep, and blue; the wind was getting our eyes teary and the Sun was bright as can be at the beginning of winter. The clouds were passing by at the same speed we were walking, and we stayed in their company for a while.

  • 25

    December 25th

    We report: oftentimes we keep track of the nightfall through quick glances at the window. The sky changes just fast enough that we can almost notice it turning bluer by the second, and the low light starts making us a little bit sleepy even though the afternoon is not over yet.

  • 26

    December 26th

    We report that, sometimes, we walk the hills thinking about "billions of years ago, what was the landscape here?". This is not a question meant for an answer, we just think a lot more on days like these. Everything is grey and humid, and the sky is still. So our mind races.

     

  • 27

    December 27th

    We report: there is something to the way birds are always going away in the cold, though we know that is not something to feel emotional about. They look very small up there in the sky, and we know they are leaving, and we wonder whether they will come back. We hope so.

  • 28

    December 28th

    We report ripples in the sky that were most likely caused by some gravity waves. We see them in the ocean all the time, but the slow movement of these clouds is something entirely different to watch.

  • 29

    December 29th

    We report: however counterintuitive that may be, stargazing really is generally a better experience in the winter. The cold dry air is not as hazy as it gets in the summer. It is also our biased view that the best constellations come out during the winter months.

  • 30

    December 30th

    We report the waves that crashed on the shore as we walked along the seaside today. There were many, strong enough to push and pull the biggest pebbles. The seafoam that climbed high on the beach was dense, and the sea birds kept poking around it for food.

     

  • 31

    December 31st

    We report: we have heard from our expert that the year is ending today, which is understandable; this does seem like a good point in time to finish up. We hope that our planet will do a nice spin around the sun during this next year as well.

December 2021

November 1st We report that this time around, when the starlings came, they covered the whole sky. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them, and each time they came near, the sound of their wings moving together felt like a great wave washing over us.

November 1st

We report that this time around, when the starlings came, they covered the whole sky. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them, and each time they came near, the sound of their wings moving together felt like a great wave washing over us.

November 2nd We report: we spent some time in the pastel tones of this dawn sky, and it was easy enough to forget about everything else - the night before and the day to come. This was not forever, and we did not want it to be forever, but it was something to push forward with.

November 2nd

We report: we spent some time in the pastel tones of this dawn sky, and it was easy enough to forget about everything else - the night before and the day to come. This was not forever, and we did not want it to be forever, but it was something to push forward with.

November 3rd We report that in this place, we are now fully into the rainy season. This is a windy day, and everywhere we walk, we get rain in our eyes. Our clothes have barely had any time to dry in between showers, and as much as we enjoy this weather, we are ready to go home.

November 3rd

We report that in this place, we are now fully into the rainy season. This is a windy day, and everywhere we walk, we get rain in our eyes. Our clothes have barely had any time to dry in between showers, and as much as we enjoy this weather, we are ready to go home.

November 4th We report that our expert is consistently wrong in their weather predictions - snow in July, heatwaves in December, and other infamous absurd concepts. This time, though, they had described this exact cloud in great detail, down to its colour, shape and position. Very strange.

November 4th

We report that our expert is consistently wrong in their weather predictions - snow in July, heatwaves in December, and other infamous absurd concepts. This time, though, they had described this exact cloud in great detail, down to its colour, shape and position. Very strange.

November 5th We report: just a little sundog that appeared and disappeared very quickly. We looked for it for too long after it faded away, and we can now see red and green spots everywhere we look. Staring directly at the Sun is not a great idea, but we keep making the same mistake.

November 5th

We report: just a little sundog that appeared and disappeared very quickly. We looked for it for too long after it faded away, and we can now see red and green spots everywhere we look. Staring directly at the Sun is not a great idea, but we keep making the same mistake.

November 6th We report an early dusk sky. Every night as we get dipped into shadows, we kiss our loved ones; we say our goodbyes as though departing for a trip. During the long nights that come before the end of December, each of those travels feels more perilous than the last. Good night.

November 6th

We report an early dusk sky. Every night as we get dipped into shadows, we kiss our loved ones; we say our goodbyes as though departing for a trip. During the long nights that come before the end of December, each of those travels feels more perilous than the last. Good night.

November 7th We report: deep into the belly of this cloud, there were things churning, and growling and tearing and boiling. And this time, in the way we reached for the rain before we even felt a drop, we felt an understanding for the storm that was also something deep inside of us.

November 7th

We report: deep into the belly of this cloud, there were things churning, and growling and tearing and boiling. And this time, in the way we reached for the rain before we even felt a drop, we felt an understanding for the storm that was also something deep inside of us.

November 8th We report a thin sliver of the Moon. When the Moon is waxing, we find ourselves wanting to watch as she gets fuller, and we always look for her in the sky, day in day out. We forget when she is supposed to rise and to set - she should always be there, we think, always in sight.

November 8th

We report a thin sliver of the Moon. When the Moon is waxing, we find ourselves wanting to watch as she gets fuller, and we always look for her in the sky, day in day out. We forget when she is supposed to rise and to set - she should always be there, we think, always in sight.

November 9th We report: on our way to see beautiful things in the sky, we always pick up the pace, afraid of having them disappear on us before we can get a proper look. Today, when we got there, out of breath even as the cold air burned our lungs, the sky was only just turning pink.

November 9th

We report: on our way to see beautiful things in the sky, we always pick up the pace, afraid of having them disappear on us before we can get a proper look. Today, when we got there, out of breath even as the cold air burned our lungs, the sky was only just turning pink.

November 10th We report that we have been hearing thunder and seeing flashes in the corner of our eyes for a little while now, but we have not had any luck actually spotting any lightning until right this moment. The rumours are true, lightning is indeed quite fast.

November 10th

We report that we have been hearing thunder and seeing flashes in the corner of our eyes for a little while now, but we have not had any luck actually spotting any lightning until right this moment. The rumours are true, lightning is indeed quite fast.

November 11th We report: we boarded a train on a mission to follow some clouds and lost them along the way; our expert belatedly figured out that we were going in the wrong direction. Luckily, we found a different sky upon arriving at the last stop

November 11th

We report: we boarded a train on a mission to follow some clouds and lost them along the way; our expert belatedly figured out that we were going in the wrong direction. Luckily, we found a different sky upon arriving at the last stop

November 12th We report a lot of colours, all mixed together, and behind them all, the blue is still blue. We think of this blue, and we think about other planets where the sky is perhaps always all the colours of the sunset at the same time; we know that we would always prefer blue.

November 12th

We report a lot of colours, all mixed together, and behind them all, the blue is still blue. We think of this blue, and we think about other planets where the sky is perhaps always all the colours of the sunset at the same time; we know that we would always prefer blue.

November 13th We report that it was so late in the morning already when we got to see the day begin. We never get quite used to seeing the days dwindle at this time of the year - every time, we feel the need to exclaim over it. Are they even shorter than last year? We are so forgetful.

November 13th

We report that it was so late in the morning already when we got to see the day begin. We never get quite used to seeing the days dwindle at this time of the year - every time, we feel the need to exclaim over it. Are they even shorter than last year? We are so forgetful.

November 14th We report: this is a place where autumn is already over, and the first snow is falling; it would not stick for the first few hours, but it looks like a thin blanket is just starting to form. We can smell the cold humidity in the air.

November 14th

We report: this is a place where autumn is already over, and the first snow is falling; it would not stick for the first few hours, but it looks like a thin blanket is just starting to form. We can smell the cold humidity in the air.

November 15th We report that when we saw this cloud hovering over the horizon, we prepared ourselves for a storm. Nothing really happened, though; the sky stayed mostly clear over the next few hours, and this cloud kept on rolling in calmly, not growing any bigger or taller.

November 15th

We report that when we saw this cloud hovering over the horizon, we prepared ourselves for a storm. Nothing really happened, though; the sky stayed mostly clear over the next few hours, and this cloud kept on rolling in calmly, not growing any bigger or taller.

November 16th We report: the temperature is 7°C, with a dew point of 6°C. The sky is cloudy, the humidity is 93% and the wind is going southwest by south. As the day continues, we wish you safe travels.

November 16th

We report: the temperature is 7°C, with a dew point of 6°C. The sky is cloudy, the humidity is 93% and the wind is going southwest by south. As the day continues, we wish you safe travels.

November 17th We report that we wanted to look at these clouds that were drowned in sunlight, and so we covered the Sun with one hand. When we looked up, right here, hidden in plain sight, these clouds were rippling with the whole colour specter.

November 17th

We report that we wanted to look at these clouds that were drowned in sunlight, and so we covered the Sun with one hand. When we looked up, right here, hidden in plain sight, these clouds were rippling with the whole colour specter.

November 18th We report: it is colder than it has been so far this season here, and the sky looks deceiving in that regard. We have been walking at a brisk pace to try and regain some feeling in the tips of our fingers, and we keep seeing our breath go up in smoke.

November 18th

We report: it is colder than it has been so far this season here, and the sky looks deceiving in that regard. We have been walking at a brisk pace to try and regain some feeling in the tips of our fingers, and we keep seeing our breath go up in smoke.

November 19th We report that we walked a winding path under some trees, and it was longer than we thought it would be. I was like this - the light changed colour to become golden, and it came low on the ground, and when we emerged from the woods, most of the sky had become purple.

November 19th

We report that we walked a winding path under some trees, and it was longer than we thought it would be. I was like this - the light changed colour to become golden, and it came low on the ground, and when we emerged from the woods, most of the sky had become purple.

November 20th We report: it is the middle of the afternoon, right after some heavy showers, and the sky is very dark. We walk with our shoulders shrugged up to our ears to fight against the wind that keeps whistling in our face.

November 20th

We report: it is the middle of the afternoon, right after some heavy showers, and the sky is very dark. We walk with our shoulders shrugged up to our ears to fight against the wind that keeps whistling in our face.

November 21st We report, out in the morning calm, we had already been there for a long time, and we had seen constellations dismantle as only the brightest stars remained. Sitting in this field in silence, at this strange hour of the early morning was like finding a secret.

November 21st

We report, out in the morning calm, we had already been there for a long time, and we had seen constellations dismantle as only the brightest stars remained. Sitting in this field in silence, at this strange hour of the early morning was like finding a secret.

November 22nd We report: certainly, we know things about the wind. It carries clouds and birds, and it can be loud, and it can bite. We know this, and we know the wind, and yet every time we feel the wind, we say "it is quite windy, today, isn't it?". Such is human nature.

November 22nd

We report: certainly, we know things about the wind. It carries clouds and birds, and it can be loud, and it can bite. We know this, and we know the wind, and yet every time we feel the wind, we say "it is quite windy, today, isn't it?". Such is human nature.

November 23rd We report, at this moment of the year, sunlight comes to be much more precious. We collect, each day, the few bright hours and remain tethered to what is warm and golden. It is the middle of autumn and we think of the Sun every day.

November 23rd

We report, at this moment of the year, sunlight comes to be much more precious. We collect, each day, the few bright hours and remain tethered to what is warm and golden. It is the middle of autumn and we think of the Sun every day.

November 24th We report an asperitas formation. We try to maintain a neutral position on clouds, but we do have a soft spot for asperatus clouds. We like to sit and watch them until they fully disappear, which can sometimes cause issues to our schedule.

November 24th

We report an asperitas formation. We try to maintain a neutral position on clouds, but we do have a soft spot for asperatus clouds. We like to sit and watch them until they fully disappear, which can sometimes cause issues to our schedule.

November 25th We report: a sunny day with blue sky and fluffy white clouds all day. The air is cold and dry, but in an invigorating way. For the first time in a while, the paths are not so muddy that we skid on them every couple of steps. It is a nice day out.

November 25th

We report: a sunny day with blue sky and fluffy white clouds all day. The air is cold and dry, but in an invigorating way. For the first time in a while, the paths are not so muddy that we skid on them every couple of steps. It is a nice day out.

November 26th We report veils of different opacities and colours floating in the morning sky, catching the light over and under each layer. Some parts are sparkling and others are in the shadows of the clouds above. The day could be over right now and we would be content.

November 26th

We report veils of different opacities and colours floating in the morning sky, catching the light over and under each layer. Some parts are sparkling and others are in the shadows of the clouds above. The day could be over right now and we would be content.

November 27th We report: we came to the beach for a very specific reason, and then promptly forgot it as we sat and watched the waves. It is not our fault that the sound of the ocean is so hypnotic, and we have decided to forgive ourselves immediately. Surely, we can come back another day.

November 27th

We report: we came to the beach for a very specific reason, and then promptly forgot it as we sat and watched the waves. It is not our fault that the sound of the ocean is so hypnotic, and we have decided to forgive ourselves immediately. Surely, we can come back another day.

November 28th We report one of those mornings when the sky is so low that it touches the ground. There is water dripping from the branches where the frost from the night is melting, but the fog does not look like it is going anywhere for now.

November 28th

We report one of those mornings when the sky is so low that it touches the ground. There is water dripping from the branches where the frost from the night is melting, but the fog does not look like it is going anywhere for now.

November 29th We report: in the Spring, those plains were a vibrant green, and when we were there, we remember feeling a certain way about that specific colour under the blue of the sky. We wonder if, come next Spring, there will be something similar to feel about this golden brown.

November 29th

We report: in the Spring, those plains were a vibrant green, and when we were there, we remember feeling a certain way about that specific colour under the blue of the sky. We wonder if, come next Spring, there will be something similar to feel about this golden brown.

November 30th We report a cold sunset with a contrail that is catching on fire. This is a sunset that we are stealing; we are late somewhere, and we were meant to be inside at this time, but now we are thinking of skipping the whole thing. We are walking fast and the air is dry.

November 30th

We report a cold sunset with a contrail that is catching on fire. This is a sunset that we are stealing; we are late somewhere, and we were meant to be inside at this time, but now we are thinking of skipping the whole thing. We are walking fast and the air is dry.

  • 1

    November 1st

    We report that this time around, when the starlings came, they covered the whole sky. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them, and each time they came near, the sound of their wings moving together felt like a great wave washing over us.

  • 2

    November 2nd

    We report: we spent some time in the pastel tones of this dawn sky, and it was easy enough to forget about everything else - the night before and the day to come. This was not forever, and we did not want it to be forever, but it was something to push forward with.

  • 3

    November 3rd

    We report that in this place, we are now fully into the rainy season. This is a windy day, and everywhere we walk, we get rain in our eyes. Our clothes have barely had any time to dry in between showers, and as much as we enjoy this weather, we are ready to go home.

  • 4

    November 4th

    We report that our expert is consistently wrong in their weather predictions - snow in July, heatwaves in December, and other infamous absurd concepts. This time, though, they had described this exact cloud in great detail, down to its colour, shape and position. Very strange.

  • 5

    November 5th

    We report: just a little sundog that appeared and disappeared very quickly. We looked for it for too long after it faded away, and we can now see red and green spots everywhere we look. Staring directly at the Sun is not a great idea, but we keep making the same mistake.

  • 6

    November 6th

    We report an early dusk sky. Every night as we get dipped into shadows, we kiss our loved ones; we say our goodbyes as though departing for a trip. During the long nights that come before the end of December, each of those travels feels more perilous than the last. Good night.

  • 7

    November 7th

    We report: deep into the belly of this cloud, there were things churning, and growling and tearing and boiling. And this time, in the way we reached for the rain before we even felt a drop, we felt an understanding for the storm that was also something deep inside of us.

  • 8

    November 8th

    We report a thin sliver of the Moon. When the Moon is waxing, we find ourselves wanting to watch as she gets fuller, and we always look for her in the sky, day in day out. We forget when she is supposed to rise and to set - she should always be there, we think, always in sight.

  • 9

    November 9th

    We report: on our way to see beautiful things in the sky, we always pick up the pace, afraid of having them disappear on us before we can get a proper look. Today, when we got there, out of breath even as the cold air burned our lungs, the sky was only just turning pink.

  • 10

    November 10th

    We report that we have been hearing thunder and seeing flashes in the corner of our eyes for a little while now, but we have not had any luck actually spotting any lightning until right this moment. The rumours are true, lightning is indeed quite fast.

  • 11

    November 11th

    We report: we boarded a train on a mission to follow some clouds and lost them along the way; our expert belatedly figured out that we were going in the wrong direction. Luckily, we found a different sky upon arriving at the last stop

  • 12

    November 12th

    We report a lot of colours, all mixed together, and behind them all, the blue is still blue. We think of this blue, and we think about other planets where the sky is perhaps always all the colours of the sunset at the same time; we know that we would always prefer blue.

  • 13

    November 13th

    We report that it was so late in the morning already when we got to see the day begin. We never get quite used to seeing the days dwindle at this time of the year - every time, we feel the need to exclaim over it. Are they even shorter than last year? We are so forgetful.

  • 14

    November 14th

    We report: this is a place where autumn is already over, and the first snow is falling; it would not stick for the first few hours, but it looks like a thin blanket is just starting to form. We can smell the cold humidity in the air.

  • 15

    November 15th

    We report that when we saw this cloud hovering over the horizon, we prepared ourselves for a storm. Nothing really happened, though; the sky stayed mostly clear over the next few hours, and this cloud kept on rolling in calmly, not growing any bigger or taller.

  • 16

    November 16th

    We report: the temperature is 7°C, with a dew point of 6°C. The sky is cloudy, the humidity is 93% and the wind is going southwest by south. As the day continues, we wish you safe travels.

  • 17

    November 17th

    We report that we wanted to look at these clouds that were drowned in sunlight, and so we covered the Sun with one hand. When we looked up, right here, hidden in plain sight, these clouds were rippling with the whole colour specter.

  • 18

    November 18th

    We report: it is colder than it has been so far this season here, and the sky looks deceiving in that regard. We have been walking at a brisk pace to try and regain some feeling in the tips of our fingers, and we keep seeing our breath go up in smoke.

  • 19

    November 19th

    We report that we walked a winding path under some trees, and it was longer than we thought it would be. I was like this - the light changed colour to become golden, and it came low on the ground, and when we emerged from the woods, most of the sky had become purple.

  • 20

    November 20th

    We report: it is the middle of the afternoon, right after some heavy showers, and the sky is very dark. We walk with our shoulders shrugged up to our ears to fight against the wind that keeps whistling in our face.

  • 21

    November 21st

    We report, out in the morning calm, we had already been there for a long time, and we had seen constellations dismantle as only the brightest stars remained. Sitting in this field in silence, at this strange hour of the early morning was like finding a secret.

  • 22

    November 22nd

    We report: certainly, we know things about the wind. It carries clouds and birds, and it can be loud, and it can bite. We know this, and we know the wind, and yet every time we feel the wind, we say "it is quite windy, today, isn't it?". Such is human nature.

  • 23

    November 23rd

    We report, at this moment of the year, sunlight comes to be much more precious. We collect, each day, the few bright hours and remain tethered to what is warm and golden. It is the middle of autumn and we think of the Sun every day.

  • 24

    November 24th

    We report an asperitas formation. We try to maintain a neutral position on clouds, but we do have a soft spot for asperatus clouds. We like to sit and watch them until they fully disappear, which can sometimes cause issues to our schedule.

  • 25

    November 25th

    We report: a sunny day with blue sky and fluffy white clouds all day. The air is cold and dry, but in an invigorating way. For the first time in a while, the paths are not so muddy that we skid on them every couple of steps. It is a nice day out.

  • 26

    November 26th

    We report veils of different opacities and colours floating in the morning sky, catching the light over and under each layer. Some parts are sparkling and others are in the shadows of the clouds above. The day could be over right now and we would be content.

  • 27

    November 27th

    We report: we came to the beach for a very specific reason, and then promptly forgot it as we sat and watched the waves. It is not our fault that the sound of the ocean is so hypnotic, and we have decided to forgive ourselves immediately. Surely, we can come back another day.

  • 28

    November 28th

    We report one of those mornings when the sky is so low that it touches the ground. There is water dripping from the branches where the frost from the night is melting, but the fog does not look like it is going anywhere for now.

  • 29

    November 29th

    We report: in the Spring, those plains were a vibrant green, and when we were there, we remember feeling a certain way about that specific colour under the blue of the sky. We wonder if, come next Spring, there will be something similar to feel about this golden brown.

  • 30

    November 30th

    We report a cold sunset with a contrail that is catching on fire. This is a sunset that we are stealing; we are late somewhere, and we were meant to be inside at this time, but now we are thinking of skipping the whole thing. We are walking fast and the air is dry.

November 2021

October 1st We report the cloudiest of all clouds in the apparition of a mammatus formation. Though we are aware that the conditions in which those clouds form are usually unstable and may sometimes signal unrest, we are nonetheless always impressed and even delighted to witness mammatus.

October 1st

We report the cloudiest of all clouds in the apparition of a mammatus formation. Though we are aware that the conditions in which those clouds form are usually unstable and may sometimes signal unrest, we are nonetheless always impressed and even delighted to witness mammatus.

October 2nd We report: at this point in the season, some days, the Sun will shine bright and strong, but its warmth is starting to feel more distant. We see it getting closer to the horizon every day, shadows stretching further under our feet.

October 2nd

We report: at this point in the season, some days, the Sun will shine bright and strong, but its warmth is starting to feel more distant. We see it getting closer to the horizon every day, shadows stretching further under our feet.

October 3rd We report that the rain was trailing behind the clouds, caught midair by the wind. From a distance, we saw it get around and the landscape got blurry and grey through the water. We dealt with rain of our own eventually, but the image of the praecipitatio in the distance stayed.

October 3rd

We report that the rain was trailing behind the clouds, caught midair by the wind. From a distance, we saw it get around and the landscape got blurry and grey through the water. We dealt with rain of our own eventually, but the image of the praecipitatio in the distance stayed.

October 4th We report: it is early in the day and only the highest clouds are getting sunlight at this moment. Our bleary eyes can barely comprehend the influx of colours, and the October air is not quite cold enough yet to fully wake us up.

October 4th

We report: it is early in the day and only the highest clouds are getting sunlight at this moment. Our bleary eyes can barely comprehend the influx of colours, and the October air is not quite cold enough yet to fully wake us up.

October 5th We report that it is one thing to look at pictures and paintings of clouds every day, but it is something else entirely to be standing underneath them; to watch them bloom and change shapes, and to see the light hit them differently as they float in front of the Sun.

October 5th

We report that it is one thing to look at pictures and paintings of clouds every day, but it is something else entirely to be standing underneath them; to watch them bloom and change shapes, and to see the light hit them differently as they float in front of the Sun.

October 6th We report: the street lights in the alley made the trees look like they were on fire, though there was a quiet chill at the beginning of the night. The blue  of the sky was only made more intense by the lighting of the streets. It was a moonless night.

October 6th

We report: the street lights in the alley made the trees look like they were on fire, though there was a quiet chill at the beginning of the night. The blue  of the sky was only made more intense by the lighting of the streets. It was a moonless night.

October 7th We report that we always stay stuck watching murmurations move in the sky - they are pulsing but fluid like water, the mass of birds is loud but we are left speechless at the unison that they form. We attempt not to blink for fear of missing any of their ephemeral shapes.

October 7th

We report that we always stay stuck watching murmurations move in the sky - they are pulsing but fluid like water, the mass of birds is loud but we are left speechless at the unison that they form. We attempt not to blink for fear of missing any of their ephemeral shapes.

October 8th We report: on windy days, we might see trees fold and leaves fly; birds struggling against the strong air currents in the sky. Nothing, though, is as telling as the ways clouds bend, sculpted into intricate shapes that tell stories of where the wind went.

October 8th

We report: on windy days, we might see trees fold and leaves fly; birds struggling against the strong air currents in the sky. Nothing, though, is as telling as the ways clouds bend, sculpted into intricate shapes that tell stories of where the wind went.

October 9th We report: we hoped to remain still in the eternity of this second, right as the glowing ashes of the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. The sunset had been glorious, full of vibrant colours and light, but this very moment somehow felt especially precious.

October 9th

We report: we hoped to remain still in the eternity of this second, right as the glowing ashes of the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. The sunset had been glorious, full of vibrant colours and light, but this very moment somehow felt especially precious.

October 10th We report that we are usually able to count the stars in the sky - five, ten, twenty on a good night, standing far away from any lamp post. Tonight, we cannot find any familiar constellations, drowned as they are among their peers. We, too, feel like our head is underwater.

October 10th

We report that we are usually able to count the stars in the sky - five, ten, twenty on a good night, standing far away from any lamp post. Tonight, we cannot find any familiar constellations, drowned as they are among their peers. We, too, feel like our head is underwater.

October 11th We report fair-weather clouds; though we think most weather is fair. We have seen unfair weather in which these clouds featured a heavy part, that much we know. We will not ask for them to be renamed, but we did need to make things clear.

October 11th

We report fair-weather clouds; though we think most weather is fair. We have seen unfair weather in which these clouds featured a heavy part, that much we know. We will not ask for them to be renamed, but we did need to make things clear.

October 12th We report that the Sun emerged from behind the trees in a golden glow, shining diffuse light in the early morning fog. It took its sweet time, as though making sure every ray of light would reach every last shadow. We know the Sun is not a sentient being, but it felt this way.

October 12th

We report that the Sun emerged from behind the trees in a golden glow, shining diffuse light in the early morning fog. It took its sweet time, as though making sure every ray of light would reach every last shadow. We know the Sun is not a sentient being, but it felt this way.

October 13th We report: it is a storm rolling in, it is the mass of water and wind and cold and warm that is all combined together. We can see, past the lips of that gaping mouth, something that resembles a quiet - it is like a lure, in this dramatic light, the appeal of a calm sky.

October 13th

We report: it is a storm rolling in, it is the mass of water and wind and cold and warm that is all combined together. We can see, past the lips of that gaping mouth, something that resembles a quiet - it is like a lure, in this dramatic light, the appeal of a calm sky.

October 14th We report one of the numerous rainbows that we have had the chance to witness lately. Rainbows occur most frequently in rainy situations, interestingly enough. There are fewer chances of a rainbow appearing if there is no rain going on at all. Absolutely fascinating.

October 14th

We report one of the numerous rainbows that we have had the chance to witness lately. Rainbows occur most frequently in rainy situations, interestingly enough. There are fewer chances of a rainbow appearing if there is no rain going on at all. Absolutely fascinating.

October 15th We report: it is bubbling up there, and it is all quite slow and fast at the same time. We easily follow the intricacies of this moving shape, but as we take our eyes off for a second, we find that it has shifted into something completely different. Clouds are profoundly alive.

October 15th

We report: it is bubbling up there, and it is all quite slow and fast at the same time. We easily follow the intricacies of this moving shape, but as we take our eyes off for a second, we find that it has shifted into something completely different. Clouds are profoundly alive.

October 16th We report that we were waiting for a bus that never came - our expert had checked the summer timetable, and it is quite obviously and noticeably autumn by now. The wind was cold, but the view was sweet; much of the things around us were pink as the clouds for just a little bit.

October 16th

We report that we were waiting for a bus that never came - our expert had checked the summer timetable, and it is quite obviously and noticeably autumn by now. The wind was cold, but the view was sweet; much of the things around us were pink as the clouds for just a little bit.

October 17th We report stormy weather over the sea. We rolled up our trousers and walked in the seafoam for a little bit. It was raining, and the water was chilly, but we had made our choice. We are stubborn over the smallest details.

October 17th

We report stormy weather over the sea. We rolled up our trousers and walked in the seafoam for a little bit. It was raining, and the water was chilly, but we had made our choice. We are stubborn over the smallest details.

October 18th We report: since morning, we have hoarded every bit of light that our eyes have met. Now, we stand in the shadow of the Earth with this treasure in our chest, and we vow to keep it warm there until the next dawn. The memories of light get us through the night.

October 18th

We report: since morning, we have hoarded every bit of light that our eyes have met. Now, we stand in the shadow of the Earth with this treasure in our chest, and we vow to keep it warm there until the next dawn. The memories of light get us through the night.

October 19th We report, about this single cloud that existed in our sky at that specific moment, nothing so special that it would distinguish it from most other clouds that we had seen before. The only thing was that we had chosen to look at it until it disappeared, and it took a long time.

October 19th

We report, about this single cloud that existed in our sky at that specific moment, nothing so special that it would distinguish it from most other clouds that we had seen before. The only thing was that we had chosen to look at it until it disappeared, and it took a long time.

October 20th We report: we wonder at the texture of particular types of clouds, and would sometimes very much like to touch them for ourselves. Today is one of those times; would the delicate cirrus fibratus formations, made of ice as they are, break off in our hands?

October 20th

We report: we wonder at the texture of particular types of clouds, and would sometimes very much like to touch them for ourselves. Today is one of those times; would the delicate cirrus fibratus formations, made of ice as they are, break off in our hands?

October 21st We report that though we are elsewhere, always, each day there is something of the sky that we recognise. It is not home, not quite, and that is because it is always different. But we do not necessarily have to be home, as long as we can see the sky.

October 21st

We report that though we are elsewhere, always, each day there is something of the sky that we recognise. It is not home, not quite, and that is because it is always different. But we do not necessarily have to be home, as long as we can see the sky.

October 22nd We report: this is a storm and then some, the ground being sucked up into the sky in a strange reversal of what we know of the way weather goes normally. The roaring sound, even from where we stand, is unlike anything we have heard before. It is time to go.

October 22nd

We report: this is a storm and then some, the ground being sucked up into the sky in a strange reversal of what we know of the way weather goes normally. The roaring sound, even from where we stand, is unlike anything we have heard before. It is time to go.

October 23rd We report this October morning, wrapped in blue and gold, with the fog that just lifted. The chilly air smells clean in the Sun that is still low, and we noticed leaves crackling under our feet as we were walking.

October 23rd

We report this October morning, wrapped in blue and gold, with the fog that just lifted. The chilly air smells clean in the Sun that is still low, and we noticed leaves crackling under our feet as we were walking.

October 24th We report a waning gibbous Moon rising. This Moon is eighteen days old, glowing orange as she is ascending into the belt of Venus. We are loath to take our eyes off her, knowing that she will lose this lovely tint once she is high in the sky. Maybe we can sit here a bit longer.

October 24th

We report a waning gibbous Moon rising. This Moon is eighteen days old, glowing orange as she is ascending into the belt of Venus. We are loath to take our eyes off her, knowing that she will lose this lovely tint once she is high in the sky. Maybe we can sit here a bit longer.

October 25th We report: days of autumn when rain and sunshine alternate and get juxtaposed, days that are brilliant and dark all at once, and there is a rainbow to look for in every corner of the sky.

October 25th

We report: days of autumn when rain and sunshine alternate and get juxtaposed, days that are brilliant and dark all at once, and there is a rainbow to look for in every corner of the sky.

October 26th We report that our expert and we went on a walk in the park, and abruptly noticed how quickly the night came. The street lamps turned on as the sky turned this deep shade of blue that can never be fully explained, and we started walking back home with a faint drizzle in the air.

October 26th

We report that our expert and we went on a walk in the park, and abruptly noticed how quickly the night came. The street lamps turned on as the sky turned this deep shade of blue that can never be fully explained, and we started walking back home with a faint drizzle in the air.

October 27th We report: big clouds always have us think about where all this water is coming from. We know that water carries a heavy history, has been inside the soil and in the sky, and back down again for billions of years, and the idea of this tends to give us vertigo.

October 27th

We report: big clouds always have us think about where all this water is coming from. We know that water carries a heavy history, has been inside the soil and in the sky, and back down again for billions of years, and the idea of this tends to give us vertigo.

October 28th We report that in this place, the leaves are yellowing, getting through the forest like a slow fire, and rainy days are succeeding one another. It is not the cold season yet, but the humidity and the wind are making the woods slightly chilly.

October 28th

We report that in this place, the leaves are yellowing, getting through the forest like a slow fire, and rainy days are succeeding one another. It is not the cold season yet, but the humidity and the wind are making the woods slightly chilly.

October 29th We report: we get stuck on the incredibly small and delicate cloud structures that appear in the sky at times. This one detached itself from a bigger cloud, like a frozen curl of smoke rising from a cup of coffee.

October 29th

We report: we get stuck on the incredibly small and delicate cloud structures that appear in the sky at times. This one detached itself from a bigger cloud, like a frozen curl of smoke rising from a cup of coffee.

October 30th We report, now that we are here and we are watching things unfold; oh, it happens so that you can love a colour with all your heart. For this bright orange that goes into reds and pinks too, we fell so easily, and we are so happy, right now, right here, about this simple emotion.

October 30th

We report, now that we are here and we are watching things unfold; oh, it happens so that you can love a colour with all your heart. For this bright orange that goes into reds and pinks too, we fell so easily, and we are so happy, right now, right here, about this simple emotion.

October 31st We report: we are testing our paper-thin sensibilities against this exceptionally dark night. We had planned to take a moment to stargaze, but we got lost on the way, and the sky is completely overcast. Our expert's flashlight has run out of battery. The woods are silent.

October 31st

We report: we are testing our paper-thin sensibilities against this exceptionally dark night. We had planned to take a moment to stargaze, but we got lost on the way, and the sky is completely overcast. Our expert's flashlight has run out of battery. The woods are silent.

  • 1

    October 1st

    We report the cloudiest of all clouds in the apparition of a mammatus formation. Though we are aware that the conditions in which those clouds form are usually unstable and may sometimes signal unrest, we are nonetheless always impressed and even delighted to witness mammatus.

  • 2

    October 2nd

    We report: at this point in the season, some days, the Sun will shine bright and strong, but its warmth is starting to feel more distant. We see it getting closer to the horizon every day, shadows stretching further under our feet.

  • 3

    October 3rd

    We report that the rain was trailing behind the clouds, caught midair by the wind. From a distance, we saw it get around and the landscape got blurry and grey through the water. We dealt with rain of our own eventually, but the image of the praecipitatio in the distance stayed.

  • 4

    October 4th

    We report: it is early in the day and only the highest clouds are getting sunlight at this moment. Our bleary eyes can barely comprehend the influx of colours, and the October air is not quite cold enough yet to fully wake us up.

  • 5

    October 5th

    We report that it is one thing to look at pictures and paintings of clouds every day, but it is something else entirely to be standing underneath them; to watch them bloom and change shapes, and to see the light hit them differently as they float in front of the Sun.

  • 6

    October 6th

    We report: the street lights in the alley made the trees look like they were on fire, though there was a quiet chill at the beginning of the night. The blue  of the sky was only made more intense by the lighting of the streets. It was a moonless night.

  • 7

    October 7th

    We report that we always stay stuck watching murmurations move in the sky - they are pulsing but fluid like water, the mass of birds is loud but we are left speechless at the unison that they form. We attempt not to blink for fear of missing any of their ephemeral shapes.

  • 8

    October 8th

    We report: on windy days, we might see trees fold and leaves fly; birds struggling against the strong air currents in the sky. Nothing, though, is as telling as the ways clouds bend, sculpted into intricate shapes that tell stories of where the wind went.

  • 9

    October 9th

    We report: we hoped to remain still in the eternity of this second, right as the glowing ashes of the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. The sunset had been glorious, full of vibrant colours and light, but this very moment somehow felt especially precious.

  • 10

    October 10th

    We report that we are usually able to count the stars in the sky - five, ten, twenty on a good night, standing far away from any lamp post. Tonight, we cannot find any familiar constellations, drowned as they are among their peers. We, too, feel like our head is underwater.

  • 11

    October 11th

    We report fair-weather clouds; though we think most weather is fair. We have seen unfair weather in which these clouds featured a heavy part, that much we know. We will not ask for them to be renamed, but we did need to make things clear.

  • 12

    October 12th

    We report that the Sun emerged from behind the trees in a golden glow, shining diffuse light in the early morning fog. It took its sweet time, as though making sure every ray of light would reach every last shadow. We know the Sun is not a sentient being, but it felt this way.

  • 13

    October 13th

    We report: it is a storm rolling in, it is the mass of water and wind and cold and warm that is all combined together. We can see, past the lips of that gaping mouth, something that resembles a quiet - it is like a lure, in this dramatic light, the appeal of a calm sky.

  • 14

    October 14th

    We report one of the numerous rainbows that we have had the chance to witness lately. Rainbows occur most frequently in rainy situations, interestingly enough. There are fewer chances of a rainbow appearing if there is no rain going on at all. Absolutely fascinating.

  • 15

    October 15th

    We report: it is bubbling up there, and it is all quite slow and fast at the same time. We easily follow the intricacies of this moving shape, but as we take our eyes off for a second, we find that it has shifted into something completely different. Clouds are profoundly alive.

  • 16

    October 16th

    We report that we were waiting for a bus that never came - our expert had checked the summer timetable, and it is quite obviously and noticeably autumn by now. The wind was cold, but the view was sweet; much of the things around us were pink as the clouds for just a little bit.

  • 17

    October 17th

    We report stormy weather over the sea. We rolled up our trousers and walked in the seafoam for a little bit. It was raining, and the water was chilly, but we had made our choice. We are stubborn over the smallest details.

  • 18

    October 18th

    We report: since morning, we have hoarded every bit of light that our eyes have met. Now, we stand in the shadow of the Earth with this treasure in our chest, and we vow to keep it warm there until the next dawn. The memories of light get us through the night.

  • 19