October 2022
October 2nd
We report: October, month of the unknown during which no one can be certain about any single cloud crossing the sky. Disguised as fair weather clouds, some will bloom into storm cells before we know it, and then some skies will be grey the whole day through with not a raindrop.
October 1st
We report, while waiting for potential rain or the absence of it: we are attempting to measure any changes in the atmosphere with our human senses alone. As a result, we may say that this is a rather warm day, not much wind to speak of; we do not know what time it is.
October 4th
We report: this morning, for breakfast, our expert had tea with a splash of milk. As we are looking up now, the way these clouds are expanding is looking just like that splash of milk in that teacup - they are taking their sweet time, though, and the light is changing fast.
October 3rd
We report, this night, just past this moon's first quarter: there is a thin veil between us and the sky, but the moon is clearly visible. Through binoculars, its features are blurred, eerie deserted landscapes suspended through a few drops in the mist.
October 5th
We report over high water, a windy autumn day. There is nobody out that we can see - it is the middle of the afternoon, yet the light has been dim all day as though dusk could come any minute. Rain is just starting to fall, almost horizontal in the strong winds.
October 7th
We report: sometimes, we fear that the only thing that lets us look away from the sky is nightfall. Once the clouds fade into solid grey, we suddenly feel the weight of the day on our shoulders. There were many amazing clouds today, and we are sure there will be tomorrow as well.
October 6th
We report: though the blue of the sky stayed consistently visible through the morning, the sun stayed hidden behind heavy clouds; and so the air was humid enough that we immediately felt it when we opened the window. We stopped hanging our laundry to dry outside.
October 11th
We report: these days, as we eat breakfast, we keep noticing a different kind of light in the kitchen. It comes in later in the morning, and it filters in low through the trees in front of the window, casting shadows on the walls. The days still carry a bit of quiet warmth.
October 8th
We report: the moon will be full tomorrow. We cannot really tell how much rounder the moon can get from here - about two percent more, our expert says, but this sounds very abstract to us. It is all about the moonlight to us, and how it washes over the world.
October 9th
We report a long night: our expert stopped by our house without any warning, and we stayed up all night listening to their weather-related stories. We brewed a lot of coffee while their vocabulary gradually became more and more obscure. Now, we are just about ready for sleep.
October 21st
We report, as we are settling in for the second night of the peak of the Orionids meteor shower: the stars are noisy tonight, there is constant chatter in the sky. We have seen a few meteors so far, bright and loud too, for how far they seem to be. The sky is shaking.
October 10th
We report scattered light across the cirrus that surround the sun, barely visible to the naked eye - but it is a shimmering veil of the whole spectrum of colours, one that we always look for whenever the weather conditions are similar to today's.
October 12th
We report wavy clouds catching the sunrise light. It rained all through the night; the paths are all muddy, and the lingering humidity is bringing about a definite chill in the air. We wear our first scarf of the season.
October 13th
We report, in these autumn evenings, the return of a particular kind of silence. Less of the bugs and less of the sparrows - the wing flaps of some bats, an owl, maybe, but where we are sitting, it is a little bit like it is just us and the stars.
October 14th
We report: there was never a chance that we would go out today. We looked at the rain falling through the window all day long. The sky started clearing up in the afternoon, and the wind picked up. The raindrops were drying slowly on the windowpane, and we were still inside.
October 15th
We report about the blue in the sky that we are holding onto, and we also report about precious rare shapes of clouds that we still collect. We report about waiting for a late train on a breezy day, and raising our collar around our neck as we lean over the railway.
October 16th
We report: a bunch of buildings were blocking our view of the sunset, so we walked for a while until we could see the sky better. By then, the colours had shifted from gold to glowing embers in a pastel sky. We had a brief thought that we would remember this sky for a long time.
October 17th
We report: the clouds stole a few minutes of light from our day as they gathered in the sky, and also a whole night of stars - which let us go to sleep earlier than usual, and so we could not be too resentful over this whole affair. We wish you a peaceful night.
October 18th
We report from one shore or another where we washed up during the night. We do not know where we are, but wherever water meets land is familiar in a way that is difficult to describe. Clouds, too, are the same as everywhere else, dragging curtains of rain to the end of the earth.
October 19th
We report: as October keeps marching on, we have not yet found the cold temperatures we remember of autumn. We find ourselves having a hard time reconciling the shorter days with this odd note of summer lingering in the air. The sky is impossibly blue up there.
October 20th
We report: with the wind we have had today, this sunset looks like a flickering candle that is about to get snuffed out. The clouds pass over the sun in a hurry, smoke escaping from the dying fire on the horizon.
October 22nd
We report: today, as we look at the sky, we do not really wonder what type of cloud we are witnessing. We think not of the exact shades of grey. We are thinking of how the wind feels, and how it might rain soon because it smells like it. We drag our feet as we walk home.
October 23rd
We report: we used to know someone who had a home by the sea and the waves would crash into their garden, humidity would seep into their walls, and storms would make their roof tremble. We remember their small house through which the wind howled as we look upon the choppy sea.
October 24th
We report, at sunset, earlier than yesterday: it happens when we close our eyes and open them back up, and a lot of sunshine that we had not noticed throughout the day suddenly catches on fire. Roar! We feel warm. The sky is beautiful.
October 25th
We report: we wandered throughout the night as the tide went low on the beach. We had never seen the tide retire so far back, and we kept walking until we reached a peninsula. When we got there, the tide started rising again. We have been stuck here ever since.
October 26th
We report, deep into the deep blue, the road shrunk into the single ray of light of our car's headlights. The sky is coming down low on the horizon, and we have not come across another car for a long time. This blue hour is turning dark.
October 27th
We report: there is warmth even in the October wind these days, and electricity has been building up steadily. Here we are now; a morning thunderstorm, less of a show than it would have been at night. Somehow, we feel uneasy as lightning strikes in broad daylight.
October 28th
We report, in this place, the hill has been changing colours. On this bright and warm cloudless day, our expert and we went apple-picking; the effort is making us feel quite hot in the midday sun. There are wasps buzzing around the fallen apples.
October 29th
We report: there is some projection here, but those clouds look melancholy, draped across the sky like torn sails that do not belong to any ships. We move into Earth's own shadow after witnessing every colour of the sunset, and we feel a sense of relief that we caught them all.
October 30th
We report: our expert drove us as far as they could from the city lights. We lay down on wet grass, mindless of the mud and the bugs. We let the stars drag us down to the bed of the river sky, and as the night would have it, we lost our footing, and car keys, in the murky waters.
October 31st
We report from where the afternoons are losing light earlier, now. We were in a hurry, on our way to something important, but suddenly the sky got dark. We looked up and immediately knew rain was about to start falling. Instead of walking faster, we were tempted to stop moving.