November 2nd

We report: the stars are hiding above the fog tonight, although it is a low layer, so we are able to find them. There is also a rising moon crescent there, but it does a better job of disappearing as we get deeper into the night. We feel the fog heavy above our eyelids.

November 1st

We report: it is noon, a brisk day. It feels chilly in the shade, and warm in the sunshine, no transition between the two situations. We constantly mean to remove, and  put our jacket back on, and then maybe add a scarf on top, but it feels slightly pointless.

October 31st

We report about the many events that occurred in the space of a few seconds: it started raining just as the clouds parted in another corner of the sky. A rainbow somehow appeared. Either of these three events startled the birds enough that they all flew away at the same time.

October 30th

We report: there are busy robins in the bushes around us. We see one of them hop from a branch to another, and its gorget is bright red in the sunset light. There must be something about the air tonight; everything sounds and smells a little sweeter than usual.

October 29th

We report: it is much less windy now, even by the sea. We are now left with this sticky sort of humidity - it gets into the fabric of our clothes, and we then live with the dampness for the rest of the day. At night, it gets cold as well. Condensation keeps forming on our face.

October 28th

We report: every day now around this time, when it is not raining, we have to set some time aside to look at the swarms of birds. We always think about it as a meteorological phenomenon in and of itself. Sometimes, the whole sky darkens with their presence, the cloud of birds.

October 27th

We report: it is difficult to tell the time of the day from the quality of the light these days. It is all starting to look like either early morning, or late afternoon (which in turn, are both starting to look like dusk). Luckily, our expert strongly believes in wearing a watch.

October 26th

We report: in the past few days, clear skies have been hidden, revealed only parsimoniously through veils and gaps. At sunset, in the drizzle, the western horizon is all grey, but there is plenty more to look at elsewhere. In a brief gust of wind, we catch a piece of sunshine.

October 25th

We report: the moon will be full in a few hours, but it is not yet the bright floodlight that we are used to on clearer nights. Although the cloud cover is thin, it still manages to dim the moonlight. In a way, we feel grateful; it is easier to observe the craters like this.

October 24th

We report: on the long tail of this week’s storm, the wind still has big teeth. It is raking the sea, throwing sea foam into the air. When there is a lull in the weather, the smell of the ocean is overwhelming; the storm must have disturbed some creatures of the abyss.

October 23rd

We report: later on, the sky is still working to sort itself out, all its pieces scattered every which way. The storm has moved on to the east, shaking some other trees that we do not know about. Many of the leaves of the trees we do know are on the ground now.

October 22nd

We report: the sunrise is a little furious, shaken out of the clouds instead of the expected slow reveal. The clouds are also mangled and mean, moving fast, shredding in the strong wind gusts. We had trouble sleeping through the groaning and creaking of a stormy night.

October 21st

We report: the sky was still bright when we got on the train. We watched the slow spread of ink over the clouds, the gilding of the horizon, and the rain advancing our way - or rather, we are coming to the rain. Just like this, when we get off the train, it is a different world.

October 20th

We report: it is a salty, cold wind by the sea on the approach of our first autumn storm. Our face burns when we get out of the weather, and we feel exhausted after only a few minutes out there. The wind is getting in through a small gap in the car window, whistling sharply.

October 19th

We report: if we walk for a little while, we do warm up, but it is chilly. We thought that the sun would be out for the whole afternoon, but for some reason, the clouds remain exactly at the level where they are able to hide it. It is just visible enough to obstruct our eyes.

October 18th

We report: later on, it starts pouring, but only after the sun has really finished setting. Our expert confirms it; the sun is below the horizon, and we are even a few paces into nautical twilight by the time any raindrops can be felt. We are completely taken by surprise.

October 17th

We report: this morning, it is cold in a way that made us think we had forgotten how it felt to be cold. Our hands are as deep into our pockets as they will go, and we have already sneezed twice in a row. It is windy too, so we are tearing up. We do regret going out a little bit.

October 16th

We report: this is a kind of sky we see in autumn too. With the rain streaming down our face, and the sun in our eyes, we cannot even bring ourselves to put the hood of our jacket on. It feels like we should properly acknowledge our first rainbows of the season.

October 15th

We report: it is a warm, but it does not feel at all like summer anymore. The mild wind is at times taken by sudden cold spots, and there really is that distinct autumn smell constantly in the air now. Our expert has begun collecting fallen leaves, their eyes fixed on the ground.

October 14th

We report: from this far, we can tell these are gulls (since we can hear them as well), but we cannot tell what kind of gulls they are. We wonder if they are heading south, or if they are just arriving from up north to winter here. It is very humid tonight; we expect fog.