March 2022
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 16th
We report our well-loved sky, travelled 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 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 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 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 - 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 kilometres 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 - 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 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 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 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 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.