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.

October 13th

We report: as the sky is slowly clearing up at nightfall, dusk is dragging on over the hour (one step forward and two steps back). In the east, the sky is already completely dark, still wrapped up in clouds. It is difficult to tell, but it might also still be raining there.

October 12th

We report: there was drizzle through the night, and the sky remained overcast through the morning after. It even got a little darker. We realised that the sun is now consistently low enough in the sky that, even at noon, it does not get as bright. Many leaves have fallen lately.

October 10th

We report: we are here with our expert, watching a large flock of jackdaws scouring the fields in the east. They keep circling back to our spot. There are dozens of birds, their flight chaotic and unpredictable. We are here for a long time, so we get a bit of sunset colours too.

October 9th

We report: it is the middle of the night, and we are alone in the street. When there are no cars, the rain is a murmur, minuscule drops that completely saturate the air. It makes the light sticky, rubbing onto the air and the asphalt. We do not quite recognise this part of town.

October 8th

We report: we have been keeping an eye on the slow collapse of the sky. Our expert is comparing the state of each layer minute to minute, and there is a distinct bend in places where the weight is getting heavier. We do not know what we will do if it all ends up on the ground.

October 7th

We report: in the past few days, we have come to the conclusion that our favourite pair of shoes is no longer waterproof. Upon close examination, we have noticed a gap between the midsole and the outsole of our left shoe. In the meantime, the clouds have kept on getting taller.

October 6th

We report: after an afternoon of rain, and with the expectancy of a rainy night as well, the sun makes an appearance at sunset. Our expert has rolled down the car window, and it smells cold; the humidity is crisp instead of muggy. The light is warm in comparison.

October 5th

We report: there are altostratus clouds keeping dawn at bay, and it feels darker down here for the specks of light we can see. We are expecting rain in the afternoon, but we think it might come early when we see the clouds still advancing, and we hear the wind rising.

October 4th

We report: the clouds gathered at such a slow, measured pace that we only ended up noticing them from how dark it had become. We were examining the sphagnum moss in a puddle, and it gradually became more difficult to even see. Just like this, the rain started too.

October 3rd

We report: over the lake, cumulus are piling up in neat rows, along invisible streets created by the wind. The same wind is making ripples on the surface of the lake. There is a rhythm to the whole organisation, down to the movement of the shadows on the shore.

October 2nd

We report: this is rain far away, late, and somehow in the path of the sunshine this time as well. It is dry where we are (it feels humid, but under the threshold for precipitation), and we think the wind is pushing the situation away from us. Our eyes are stuck to the horizon.

October 1st

We report: with the moon still over half-full, there is enough light for the silver cirrus to show in the night sky. They are almost clearer than they would be in daylight, wrapping around the stars. It is now getting a little too cold for us to keep the window open like this.

September 30th

We report: it rains sporadically throughout the day, sometimes for an hour, sometimes a minute. We understand why looking at the clouds which are responsible for the precipitation; the rain does not look like it knows where it is going, even stopping mid-air here and there.

September 29th

We report: we have noticed that, early in autumn days, we often find waves in the sky. A few days after spring tides, we think it is only right that they should be there. Our expert says this has to do with rapid changes in temperatures. We can see them move with the naked eye.