June 2020
June 2nd
We report all these shades of grey. No need to count them, they're just a lot of different greys.
June 1st
We report tendrils of smoke swirling around the Moon, as though trying to capture her. We are keeping watch; the Moon will not disappear tonight.
June 4th
We report a parhelion located within a 22° Sun halo. Our expert tells us it is similar to a rainbow, except it is not a bow, and there is no rain. So it is not actually that similar, maybe.
June 3rd
We report homegrown, organic clouds. The good stuff. Look at them go.
June 5th
We report that the sky is definitely made out of some sort of fabric; our sharp eyes cannot be fooled.
June 7th
We report the sort of day that has you reaching for your umbrella and your sunglasses at the same time.
June 6th
We report no wind, no clouds. A temporary truce, maybe, ground zero at nightfall to start the next day in better spirits.
June 11th
We report a sheep that broke away from its flock. Good luck out there, little one.
June 8th
We report the strange charm of power lines cutting through delicate, velvety skies.
June 9th
We report silent waves unfurling; it is quite like looking at the surface of the sea from deep down in the ocean, an indescribable feeling.
June 21st
We report having the full knowledge that we are about to get absolutely drenched, but we have decided to stand still in order to observe the spectacle of a cloud coming ahead with full force.
June 10th
We report many faraway fireflies lighting up one after the other, taking charge as the Sun slowly disappears.
June 12th
We report safe travels under blue skies. The destination is too far to see, but the wind will carry you there in time; patience is required. Besides, this is a tiny boat. You cannot expect miracles.
June 13th
We report oncoming rain, and haven't we been waiting for it for a long time? An uninterrupted, heavy squall.
June 14th
We report lingering humidity catching the light mid-air. Our expert tells us that it also makes them feel a little bit cold.
June 15th
We report that postcard sunsets have been around for way longer than postcards have been around. It really makes you think, huh? About what, we do not know, but it does make you think.
June 16th
We report the distinct bittersweet realisation that every cloud is unique, and we only ever get one single opportunity to look at them.
June 17th
We report these colours appearing after a rainy day; our expert complains of a lack of variety in the palette, but we are more than satisfied. Our expert is an ungrateful brat.
June 18th
We report immensities finding shelter in the sky; could you tell how big this is, could you measure these agglomerates of water droplets slowly making their way from one end of the horizon to another? Would you want to, or is this mystery somehow precious to you?
June 19th
We report a cloud shaped like a blanket. We report that it makes us feel sleepy.
June 20th
We report a meteoroid entering the Earth's atmosphere at a speed probably exceeding 72,000 km/h. If our expert isn't wrong, this could potentially warrant a speeding ticket.
June 22nd
We report that the weather has been enigmatic all day, shifting from cold and shady to bright and warm in a matter of seconds - we have to give up on any clear report. The weather is being dodgy, this is our official statement.
June 23rd
We report the most silent moment before the world starts bustling around.
June 24th
We report a white-hot day. Our expert got worried about the perspective of getting vaporized by the Sun when stepping outside, today. Fortunately, they wore a hat and didn't suffer any lasting consequences.
June 25th
We report strange geometrical statements far up in the sky. Our expert is researching the type of bird that would leave this kind of ominous declaration on its path.
June 26th
We report a sky so blue that it had us question the real nature of the colour blue.
June 27th
We report a summer storm that had been growling in the distance for a while. It's always a good thing to release some pressure, our expert says.
June 28th
We report... Well, it would be dishonest to call it anything but the eye of Sauron, wouldn't it?
June 29th
We report that pink skies in the morning may be bad omens for sailors, but we're not about to set foot on a boat, and so we'll just sit quietly and appreciate whatever might be going on up here.
June 30th
We report that specific window of time when everything turns grey, colours all put to sleep until the sun rises again.