August 2021
August 2nd
We report a sheet of undulatus asperitas clouds. We sat and observed those waves ripple slowly for a long time. The air was warm and dry and crackled like it would before a storm. We wondered what would happen when those clouds would open up.
August 1st
We report cirrus uncinus stretching out in the sky; these are high-altitude clouds, typically appearing over 6000 metres above the ground. They tend to form when layers of dry air ascend to a higher part of the atmosphere.
August 4th
We report quiet dawn at sea, no wind that we can feel. And though we are noticing the rain coming towards us, it is slow-going, and we wonder if those clouds just might evaporate before reaching us. The sky is still too dark for us to see the relief of the waves.
August 3rd
We report: we gaze upon barely trodden waters, the likes of which no one has seen with their own two eyes. We know the bitter feelings they steep in us, we see in the stars the bare bones of the lonely beast we are - born in the deep recesses of the universe. A restless sleep.
August 5th
We report a shelf cloud over this field. The oncoming storm has seemingly lifted all the warmth from the air around us, and so we do not intend to loiter for much longer. The wind has torn through the edges of the arcus, and we can see it making its way through the field.
August 7th
We report: we sent our expert to go look at the sky and tell us about it. They told us that "it is blue. I looked at it and the sky itself was very blue, in various shades, but then I looked around me and everything else was also blue; I looked at my hands and they were blue."
August 6th
We report big cloud formations billowing up into the sky, developing quickly and dissolving just as fast; they cast long shadows on the ground. Up in the hills, the clouds seem to skim the grass, and we feel like we might walk into them at any moment.
August 11th
We report one of the very few occurrences when the sky is falling on our heads; or, well, some bits of the sky, and not actually too close to our heads. The Perseids are upon us, a cloud of debris from the comet Swift-Tuttle passing in our vicinity - not our usual type of cloud.
August 8th
We report that we were looking for a path that we had walked a long time ago; we barely remembered its shape on the map. When we stumbled upon it, we knew it by the smell of the privets and blackberry bushes growing in the hedges, and the sound of the stream running alongside it.
August 9th
We report: there used to be fluffy white clouds in this sky, each of them well defined, but as the afternoon dragged on and the evening came, they all blurred out into one another. Now we look at them as colours bleed into them, imprinting onto all the layers of the atmosphere.
August 21st
We report: where we are, these days, the Orion constellation is visible at dawn. There are other constellations that are visible at other moments of the night, which is a good thing, but we specifically mean to focus on Orion, the extremely wonderful and bright constellation.
August 10th
We report that today, we have spent an inordinate amount of time laying down in the tall grass, our eyes fixed on the sky. We fell asleep a few times, the clouds ever-present on the inside of our eyelids even as we drifted off. We woke up to a different picture every time.
August 12th
We report: we feel, ever stronger each time, the impulse to stop everything we are doing when we spot a rainbow. We stare at the way the light hits the rain for as long as we can to see it gently wobble. We notice it intensifying and weakening before it disappears.
August 13th
We report a blooming cumulonimbus in the distance benefitting from the last few Sun rays of the day. We can already see the light fade and move on from these clouds, as the Sun is grazing the horizon. Soon, these clouds too will lose their shape and take on another.
August 14th
We report that we saw a plane fly through that corner of the sky a few hours ago, leaving a narrow trail behind it. It has now sprouted veils of cirrus to the side, and it keeps on growing wider, unfurling into the atmosphere.
August 15th
We report: the wind shear on the sea is giving us an early taste of autumn. The briny air is humid and the tide is high on the shore; the sea is dark and opaque to the dim light of this day.
August 16th
We report that there is a light veil of mist permeating the morning sky, blurring the view of the clouds. The belt of Venus is quite visible for a summer day, this pinkish glow just above the horizon that is created by the backscatter of the tinted sunlight.
August 17th
We report that we have a sweet spot for grey skies in our life. There are many things we appreciate about grey skies: the diffuse light they produce, the warmth that they keep away on summer days, and the warmth that they preserve during winter nights. We also love an underdog.
August 18th
We report: the storm was more thunder than lightning, but still gave us a few bright flashes. There was a deep rumble in the sky since the early evening that sounded quite distant. There was not much wind on that day, and the storm advanced slowly before we could see lightning.
August 19th
We report that we once more decided to spend some time in a suspended moment, hang on to the liminality of the end of the day. It is quite the wonder, really, the Sun so low in the sky, and the sky reflecting those colours that are so far out on the edges of the spectrum.
August 20th
We report that this is one of those days that take us back to summers of the past. The clouds are tall and the Sun is bright, but there is a sweet breeze in the air. We walked around in places that smell like wildflowers and late summer fruits. We have got sunshine in our eyes.
August 22nd
We report the moving shadows of clouds on the mountains, shifting in the afternoon sunshine and wind. We like to wonder at the many clouds that these mountains have witnessed in all of their existence; the fleeting nature of the weather on these ancient rock formations.
August 23rd
We report, for the first time in a long while, we were smoking our breath in the dawn. Though the air felt cold, and it was too early for our liking, our mood felt just right and we walked with spirit for a long moment just for the sake of holding onto it.
August 24th
We report: we like to think that our expert and we understand the sky and whatever happens up there, but the truth is we certainly do not understand most of what is going on in life in general. And so chances are, the sky is perhaps one of the things we least understand.
August 25th
We report lazy, lazy clouds that will not rise any higher than the ground, committed to grazing the grass and the trees in long sweeps. We keep collecting droplets of water in our hair and eyelashes as we walk, and the sound travels strangely in the air.
August 26th
We report: the clouds fold the light in between their crevices, let some of it shine through, over and under. There is warmth woven into every inch of the sky in moments like these, a lattice of colours and shadows.
August 27th
We report that watching this sky, we catch ourselves rising to the tip of our toes, eager to see more of it, to catch more of the blue. There is no blue like sky blue, not anywhere else, and we find ourselves missing those shades when they are otherwise hidden for long periods.
August 28th
We report: the hot embers of summer are slowly cooling down. The darkness seems to be eating at our days with more appetite all of a sudden, and so we sit in the twilight. In the shadows and in the quiet, we can hear something alive that is harder to perceive in broad daylight.
August 29th
We report that we took note, in careful detail, of the dimensions and appearances of these clouds; we were confident in our skills and thereby results. It just happens so that clouds do shift rather rapidly, making such observations obsolete just as quickly. No hard feelings.
August 30th
We report many transient luminous events during tonight's storm. These red sprites appeared in the mesosphere in very quick flashes, and had we not been looking for them, we would surely have missed them. Our expert remained speechless for some time.
August 31st
We report, though we may step into places with ceilings and no windows, and though we might keep our backs to the doors at times, the certainty of the sky remains unwavering. The open and the large, hidden or dark as they may be, are there, always. There is a way out and up.