February 2021
February 2nd
We report: we took a short hike at the end of the afternoon and forgot to keep an eye on the time. The temperature started to drop steadily, the air saturated with humidity, and we puffed out clouds with our every breath.
February 1st
We report, with the deduction skills of our expert, we discovered that many planes flew across the sky today, but they seem to have followed mysterious paths. Where were they going that required them to loop around the sky like so?
February 4th
We report: on days when the weather is unpredictable, nothing changes much from the way we are usually unable to predict anything. We can say that the wind is certainly being quite busy today.
February 3rd
We report, today, in the sky, we caught whispers of the slippery memories of rainfalls past. We stayed dry through some time and finally could not avoid raindrops any longer.
February 5th
We report that we often stop and look at the sky as though it is another world entirely, bigger, more silent, but also sensitive to every little change. Just water suspended in the air, and yet so much more at the same time. We always feel grateful to be able to witness it all.
February 7th
We report, as it tends to happen at sunset, the sky split open just at the right time for us to peer beyond the clouds, before the darkness falls; in between the death of the lived day and the long length of silence before the birth of the one we have yet to see.
February 6th
We report: although we had been waiting for rain, it seems that it was not meant to be. The sea turned from black to a blinding white under the winter Sun; we can expect advection fog later on, perhaps, if the air keeps warming up.
February 11th
We report: patches of thin, irregular ice on this lake, riddled with bubbles and cracks. It formed and reformed and changed shapes many times over since the end of Autumn; as we walk on the bank in the cold, it sometimes whistles and fractures under temperature shifts.
February 8th
We report shapes constructed from different textures and born from different airflows, all nonetheless in the same sky. We report also, distracted memories of the millions of clouds one is likely to observe during their life.
February 9th
We report: this morning, the snow turned into sleet that turned into hail; we are below or above freezing temperatures, it is hard to tell. That is to say, we ourselves are very cold, but who is to know what is the truth of the situation? Perhaps someone who owns a thermometer.
February 21st
We report: for all the time and effort that we spend spotting clouds, there will be a few moments when we are looking for a blue spot instead (the moments when we do find it will be even fewer).
February 10th
We report, today, the temperature is 2°C but feels like -4°C. The wind speed is 18 knots, with gusts of 22 knots. There is 26% of cloud coverage and no precipitation.
February 12th
We report that, on a snowy night, the sky stays ashy and swallows the light in long gulps. As we wade through the muddy path, humidity seeps into us in a way that makes us feel like our bones become brittle ice.
February 13th
We report, at the worst of Winter, there will always be a few days that will be milder. The wind was sharp today, and not exactly too warm, but the Sun was out and some of the snow melted.
February 14th
We report fair-weather clouds, the type that one likes to sit and watch go by, the type that is easy-going and globally reliable in their cloudy demeanour.
February 15th
We report: these days, the Moon seems to be following the Sun, rising and setting just a few hours after our star has risen and set. We wish her success in her endeavours, whatever they may be.
February 16th
We report that we are scaling mountains with our eyes, lovely cumulus brooding in low light; the shadows of late hours are getting us lost in small patches of the sky.
February 17th
We report that the wind is shaking trees and making roofs creak. Even as we stay inside, the whistles, moans, and howls that filter through doors and windows are keeping us on edge.
February 18th
We report, on misty days at sea, we observe the rise and fall from water to water, and sounds coming from movements we cannot see.
February 19th
We report: the rain just cleared and left lingering humidity in the air to which the light is clinging. The sky takes on the shades of places where the night settles in the background of street lamps and cars' headlights.
February 20th
We report: this morning, we woke up to strands of sunlight sneaking in through the window; the sunrise stretched out lazily for as long as we watched it, slow-going, looking like the way caramel tastes.
February 22nd
We report, as we were observing the rain catching on fire in the sunlight, we noticed something changing; perhaps it was the wind that carried different smells than usual, or maybe the temperature, or the blackbird that we heard after a long time. We do wonder what it was.
February 23rd
We report the light, snagged on clouds as it tried to reach the first paces of the darkness of the night. It stretched so thinly and so deeply, assiduous in its efforts to shine.
February 24th
We report a dissipating storm cloud; our expert comments that its distinct anvil shape lets us know that it had reached stratospheric stability before starting to fall apart.
February 25th
We report a strong wind that rushed into alleyways of the sky, digging furrows into ice crystals that reach far out to the edges of the sky.
February 26th
We report: there was silence and then darkness, and as we were observing these, clouds were swept away in the wind. One by one, and later, all at once, we envisioned touching and capturing each star that was revealed, from the belt of Orion to the Pleiades.
February 27th
We report the full Moon of February, oft called the Snow Moon, already high in the sky at sunset. Our expert has been observing the waxing of this Moon, and is very impressed as to how similar it is to every other Moon they have had the opportunity to watch.
February 28th
We report: our expert drove for hours, and in hindsight, as far as we know, the destination was nowhere in particular. Clouds intertwined, aimlessly braiding patterns along the far end of the horizon. We do not remember whether we came across the rain on the way there or back.