August 2020
August 2nd
We report that the sky has a leaking issue. It's alright, we'll catch all that light for you, sky.
August 1st
We report a typical belt of Venus situation - our dearest Earth's shadow projected in the sky at twilight.
August 4th
We report - after staring for a long time at white clouds in the glaring sun, these skies stayed printed on our eyelids the whole day. Our expert reminds us not to look directly at the Sun.
August 3rd
We report: tiny sky fragments with jagged edges dissipating in the low evening light.
August 5th
We report cold skies up there; it does make for a pretty view, though, and we are not about to complain.
August 7th
We report; it was sunny all day, and we thought we would get some of that light, but we arrived too late. The clouds had overtaken the sky. There will be other opportunities, we are not giving up.
August 6th
We report that it takes between twenty and thirty minutes for the human eye to adjust to darkness; therefore we stand still and watch stars appear at the edge of our field of vision. Our expert points out the importance of stretching our neck while stargazing.
August 11th
We report that our expert is keeping an eye out for some rain - to no avail so far, despite singing out of tune very loudly for the whole day. We are not sure if we would rather get the rain, or have them stop singing.
August 8th
We report that we found a hat in the grass this morning while we were out inspecting the ground fog. Could this be... after all this time... our expert's hat has reappeared?
August 9th
We report: hello, lonesome traveler. We wish you a safe journey.
August 21st
We report; crepuscular rays never seem to get old; some theatrics in life now and then can't hurt, can they?
August 10th
We report; the Sun has been quite unforgiving on this hot summer day, but there was comfort in the few shadows around. Now, a breeze is starting to lighten the air, the blue of the sky is slowly disappearing behind a veil.
August 12th
We report that, although we have not forgotten our umbrellas, this brand of cumulonimbus with arcus makes us think it would be judicious to keep our distances today.
August 13th
We report, over the sea this evening, the wind has sculpted a second set of waves into the mist. These ones are not accompanied by a salty scent and sounds of reeling and crashing, though.
August 14th
We report: we should probably let these giants make their way through quietly.
August 15th
We report: today the air was light as the sky feathered out into millions of long, feathery threads in the wind. We sat for a long time, trying to count all of them; a fruitless effort since they kept shifting, disappearing, and reappearing in the waning light.
August 16th
We report that we had been playing hide and seek with the Moon for several days - luckily, we caught her before she went to rest. That is experience and perseverance for you!
August 17th
We report that we're not sure about safety distances when it comes to waterspouts, but we are probably too close to this one.
August 18th
We report: many times, we look at clouds and think of how long these tiny droplets of water have been traveling, and how much longer it will take them to reach the sea again. This stubborn, uninterrupted cycle of highs and lows was particularly present in our minds today.
August 19th
We report that, as we were trying to walk faster to avoid getting caught by nightfall, our expert had a close encounter with bats. They are refusing to acknowledge the loudness of their scream as one of the bats flew right over their head.
August 20th
We report that we asked our expert to explain to us why the sky often turned orange in the sunset light, and they categorically refused to do so. It perhaps has to do with the fact that they were trying to fall asleep, but we still think that it was rude of them.
August 22nd
We report: a wave had swallowed the Sun. It released it in the same breath, but it was a very frightening moment for all of us.
August 23rd
We report about 12% of visibility for the Moon today. Our expert gives us a tip to easily identify whether the moon is waning or waxing in the northern hemisphere: "b" for birth phase (portrayed here) and "d" for "don't leave so soon why don't you stay just a little bit longer pl
August 24th
We report a murmuration of clouds. Where are they going like that?
August 25th
We report that the moors had been crushed by a sweltering heat for days, but the weather suddenly changed to a steady, slow, and cold rain. We wish a speedy recovery to the flora.
August 26th
We report: it seems that the special effects department has gone slightly over budget.
August 27th
We report that clouds are particularly subjected to the highs and lows of life; we send our best wishes their way.
August 28th
We report: an Autumn wind came by early to sweep the clouds and the fully bloomed heather. We will see you again soon, wind, don't be so eager.
August 29th
We report that the Moon should be visible right under Saturn tonight, but we decided to look the other way. Our expert wonders why the Moon should always be the star, "pun intended", they add.
August 30th
We report: castles in the sky are not made to stand strong for a very long time, but their presence is commanding nonetheless.
August 31st
We report: gold slowly pooling into the sky before light fully disappears.