September 2023
September 2nd
We report a long time after we had expected the sun to be gone for good, these clouds very high up are still catching light, the very last, smallest rays of sunlight curving against the roof of the sky. The rest of it has been taken by the darkness, a wide expanse of void.
September 1st
We report: a morning in the rain, the water in the water and the salt in the air, the wind that has come from far away. We seem to come here by the sea to welcome the weather, no matter where the current flows from. From the looks of it, more of the same is coming our way, today.
September 4th
We report a hot day for a summer that has not yet winded down, the warm air pushing castles up in the sky. The air is dank, warm, and electric; we find ourselves expecting a storm every time we step outside. We pass an apple tree full of ripe fruits on our walk.
September 3rd
We report: this is a slightly misty morning, just enough humidity in the air that the light comes through a bloom, that the colours of the sunrise are just this side of pastel. It will all change in an instant, but we are trying very hard to remember the way things are right now.
September 5th
We report: the clouds are collapsing, over and over again. This kind of rain falls regardless of the seasons, it does not care about summer or autumn nearly as much as we do, about the days crossed out on our calendar. The afternoon goes on, soaked to the bone.
September 7th
We report: we found it difficult to wake up this morning, but the sunrise sweetened the deal by a lot, so much so that we ended up looking forward to the day ahead. It is quite amazing, the amount of power a little bit of pink can unleash upon a morning.
September 6th
We report about the moments when a handful of stars get revealed among the clouds, and we are consumed by a visceral desire to dive into these depths. It is impossible to ignore, the longing lodged in the call of the void, the buzzing in our ears as the sky falls around us.
September 11th
We report: the sun is generous like that, that it keeps pouring in, keeps pouring in, when the sky is already dark. So it is only right that it would spill even, and us in a daze, our eyes are burning from staring too long without blinking, but the sunset is still not over.
September 8th
We report about the end of a hot and humid afternoon. This day went like this: a little bit slow, but somehow too short, and the sun was bright throughout. We walked along a path in the shade, still ended up sweaty, pricked our fingers on brambles while picking warm blackberries.
September 9th
We report: the clouds so low and thick that the light comes out blue and dank. Our expert points out formations that are supposed to indicate this or that variation in weather, but we can barely hear them over the wind and the rain, and under the hood of their raincoat.
September 21st
We report: this is a cold morning, or at least as cold as we remember it being since June. There is at least one shower to be expected every day when the season gets like this, but it has mostly been windy today. The swallows sway on phone lines, and the clouds move fast.
September 10th
We report about a sky that people would look to for signs and answers, and the poetry that people write between the dark dusk clouds. It seems as though there would be a lot of lost poetry in the sky always, lines that came to mind and got forgotten immediately.
September 12th
We report about icy little clouds making icy little patterns very very high up in the blue sky, some cirrus vertebratus that have formed in the ripples of the wind over 6000 metres above us. Our expert explains something about a "jet stream" to us that immediately slips our mind.
September 13th
We report: anytime now, a rainbow will appear, never mind that we saw a really faint one that vanished almost immediately earlier. Anytime now, a big, bright - vibrant even - rainbow will draw a neat arch across the sky, maybe two, should we be lucky. We only need to be patient.
September 14th
We report about going a little bit too far and getting lost in the sky. We do not know when this happened, but there was a moment when we realised there were stars around us, and not much else. We have a long way home, so we will have to keep ourselves from getting too dazzled.
September 15th
We report: here is a moment to think about a few precise elements of your life. Take this moment, and with it, perhaps think back to the last moment you heard a bird sing and wondered what kind of bird it was; or maybe, try to remember where you got your favourite keychain.
September 16th
We report about the last few days of summer, when the air has changed enough for us to feel the difference, and the light is also lower, not as bright when noon comes around. So it is a little bit of summer ending, and a little bit of autumn coming around the corner.
September 17th
We report: a lot of blue in the sky today, but we cannot look away from the grey, the shadows that live there, and the shapes that are born and die in the same breath. We like to focus on these small parts of the sky at times, pay attention to the tiniest changes.
September 18th
We report a quiet storm, heat lightning that has been illuminating the horizon for hours - but the thunder, we cannot hear from where we are. We have been observing the direction of the bolts; our expert confidently tells us this is intracloud lightning, within a single cloud.
September 19th
We report: the sunlight is working hard to get through the mist, a long, arduous process on a morning like this one, the inchoate draft of a day. We have not yet seen the Earth spin in reverse with the hope of restarting a failed day, although we hope to live to experience this.
September 20th
We report about some hours spent watching clouds do what clouds do. It feels like a miracle every time, to see the clouds push outwards and inwards at the same time, to see patterns emerge and retract in the blink of an eye. We keep wondering how much more, how big can it get?
September 22nd
We report about the cornfield drying out under the first quarter of the moon, and the last few crickets of the season sounding out in the evening. We keep stepping into puddles on the path, and there is a smell in the air, stronger in the night - earth, moss, humidity, dust.
September 23rd
We report: it has rained on the equinox, and it was really good for us, and we are sure, for a lot of other people and things. It was the way it cooled the air so brightly, and the wind froze our cheeks, a sensation that we did not know we had missed so much until now.
September 24th
We report on a windy, windy day. It is coming from an odd direction, our hair all in our face and jackets blowing like parachutes. We see people walking down the street holding tightly onto their grocery bags, zig-zagging as they try to stay on course. The sky is very high today.
September 25th
We report: end of the afternoon, and while the clouds pooled over our head, the light changed to yellow. The rain did not come right away, and the sky changed some more; so we felt the fragility of the moment intensely, a strange emotion in the face of constant change.
September 26th
We report about light lost and open eyes in the darkness, now, at this hour when there is just a little bit more day before the sky is entirely night. The wider we open our eyes, the less we see, and the shadows drop without a sound. We suppose nightfall has to be quiet.
September 27th
We report a hastily applied brushstroke over the horizon, like someone remembered that we were having a sunset, and perhaps a bit of colour on top of it would be a nice touch. The wind has raked most of the clouds out of the sky; the ones that remain are frail, diaphanous.
September 28th
We report: we are getting to days when the sun does not quite hit the zenith anymore. It moves that little bit much lower in the sky that the clouds also look different in the middle of the afternoon, the way the light hits them on their underbelly instead of their sides.
September 29th
We report about mellow, damp, windy days; rising from the ground is a fragrance of decomposition. There are leaves slowly breaking down in muddy puddles, and mushrooms pushing up at the feet of some trees - not ones we would pick, as we know very little about mushrooms.
September 30th
We report: a bright night, so windy as to leave the sky clear. It could be a fantastic night to engage in stargazing for this reason, but the moon is still big and round enough that it is a distraction. Jupiter and Uranus trail in its wake, and we cannot look anywhere else.