October 2021
October 2nd
We report: at this point in the season, some days, the Sun will shine bright and strong, but its warmth is starting to feel more distant. We see it getting closer to the horizon every day, shadows stretching further under our feet.
October 1st
We report the cloudiest of all clouds in the apparition of a mammatus formation. Though we are aware that the conditions in which those clouds form are usually unstable and may sometimes signal unrest, we are nonetheless always impressed and even delighted to witness mammatus.
October 4th
We report: it is early in the day and only the highest clouds are getting sunlight at this moment. Our bleary eyes can barely comprehend the influx of colours, and the October air is not quite cold enough yet to fully wake us up.
October 3rd
We report that the rain was trailing behind the clouds, caught midair by the wind. From a distance, we saw it get around and the landscape got blurry and grey through the water. We dealt with rain of our own eventually, but the image of the praecipitatio in the distance stayed.
October 5th
We report that it is one thing to look at pictures and paintings of clouds every day, but it is something else entirely to be standing underneath them; to watch them bloom and change shapes, and to see the light hit them differently as they float in front of the Sun.
October 7th
We report that we always stay stuck watching murmurations move in the sky - they are pulsing but fluid like water, the mass of birds is loud but we are left speechless at the unison that they form. We attempt not to blink for fear of missing any of their ephemeral shapes.
October 6th
We report: the street lights in the alley made the trees look like they were on fire, though there was a quiet chill at the beginning of the night. The blue of the sky was only made more intense by the lighting of the streets. It was a moonless night.
October 11th
We report fair-weather clouds; though we think most weather is fair. We have seen unfair weather in which these clouds featured a heavy part, that much we know. We will not ask for them to be renamed, but we did need to make things clear.
October 8th
We report: on windy days, we might see trees fold and leaves fly; birds struggling against the strong air currents in the sky. Nothing, though, is as telling as the ways clouds bend, sculpted into intricate shapes that tell stories of where the wind went.
October 9th
We report: we hoped to remain still in the eternity of this second, right as the glowing ashes of the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. The sunset had been glorious, full of vibrant colours and light, but this very moment somehow felt especially precious.
October 21st
We report that though we are elsewhere, always, each day there is something of the sky that we recognise. It is not home, not quite, and that is because it is always different. But we do not necessarily have to be home, as long as we can see the sky.
October 10th
We report that we are usually able to count the stars in the sky - five, ten, twenty on a good night, standing far away from any lamp post. Tonight, we cannot find any familiar constellations, drowned as they are among their peers. We, too, feel like our head is underwater.
October 12th
We report that the Sun emerged from behind the trees in a golden glow, shining diffuse light in the early morning fog. It took its sweet time, as though making sure every ray of light would reach every last shadow. We know the Sun is not a sentient being, but it felt this way.
October 13th
We report: it is a storm rolling in, it is the mass of water and wind and cold and warm that is all combined together. We can see, past the lips of that gaping mouth, something that resembles a quiet - it is like a lure, in this dramatic light, the appeal of a calm sky.
October 14th
We report one of the numerous rainbows that we have had the chance to witness lately. Rainbows occur most frequently in rainy situations, interestingly enough. There are fewer chances of a rainbow appearing if there is no rain going on at all. Absolutely fascinating.
October 15th
We report: it is bubbling up there, and it is all quite slow and fast at the same time. We easily follow the intricacies of this moving shape, but as we take our eyes off for a second, we find that it has shifted into something completely different. Clouds are profoundly alive.
October 16th
We report that we were waiting for a bus that never came - our expert had checked the summer timetable, and it is quite obviously and noticeably autumn by now. The wind was cold, but the view was sweet; much of the things around us were pink as the clouds for just a little bit.
October 17th
We report stormy weather over the sea. We rolled up our trousers and walked in the seafoam for a little bit. It was raining, and the water was chilly, but we had made our choice. We are stubborn over the smallest details.
October 18th
We report: since morning, we have hoarded every bit of light that our eyes have met. Now, we stand in the shadow of the Earth with this treasure in our chest, and we vow to keep it warm there until the next dawn. The memories of light get us through the night.
October 19th
We report, about this single cloud that existed in our sky at that specific moment, nothing so special that it would distinguish it from most other clouds that we had seen before. The only thing was that we had chosen to look at it until it disappeared, and it took a long time.
October 20th
We report: we wonder at the texture of particular types of clouds, and would sometimes very much like to touch them for ourselves. Today is one of those times; would the delicate cirrus fibratus formations, made of ice as they are, break off in our hands?
October 22nd
We report: this is a storm and then some, the ground being sucked up into the sky in a strange reversal of what we know of the way weather goes normally. The roaring sound, even from where we stand, is unlike anything we have heard before. It is time to go.
October 23rd
We report this October morning, wrapped in blue and gold, with the fog that just lifted. The chilly air smells clean in the Sun that is still low, and we noticed leaves crackling under our feet as we were walking.
October 24th
We report a waning gibbous Moon rising. This Moon is eighteen days old, glowing orange as she is ascending into the belt of Venus. We are loath to take our eyes off her, knowing that she will lose this lovely tint once she is high in the sky. Maybe we can sit here a bit longer.
October 25th
We report: days of autumn when rain and sunshine alternate and get juxtaposed, days that are brilliant and dark all at once, and there is a rainbow to look for in every corner of the sky.
October 26th
We report that our expert and we went on a walk in the park, and abruptly noticed how quickly the night came. The street lamps turned on as the sky turned this deep shade of blue that can never be fully explained, and we started walking back home with a faint drizzle in the air.
October 27th
We report: big clouds always have us think about where all this water is coming from. We know that water carries a heavy history, has been inside the soil and in the sky, and back down again for billions of years, and the idea of this tends to give us vertigo.
October 28th
We report that in this place, the leaves are yellowing, getting through the forest like a slow fire, and rainy days are succeeding one another. It is not the cold season yet, but the humidity and the wind are making the woods slightly chilly.
October 29th
We report: we get stuck on the incredibly small and delicate cloud structures that appear in the sky at times. This one detached itself from a bigger cloud, like a frozen curl of smoke rising from a cup of coffee.
October 30th
We report, now that we are here and we are watching things unfold; oh, it happens so that you can love a colour with all your heart. For this bright orange that goes into reds and pinks too, we fell so easily, and we are so happy, right now, right here, about this simple emotion.
October 31st
We report: we are testing our paper-thin sensibilities against this exceptionally dark night. We had planned on taking a moment to stargaze, but we got lost on the way, and the sky is completely overcast. Our expert's flashlight has run out of battery. The woods are silent.