August 30th

We report: we lost the moonrise in the clouds tonight, and our expert seemed a little dejected about it. For this reason, we are now waiting for a hypothetical moment when the moon might still appear; though we are aware there is rain on the radar in the next half hour.

August 29th

We report: there is a traffic jam currently occurring in the sky, certainly due to clouds of different shapes and sizes moving on different levels, at different speeds. There has been some crumpling and tearing in consequence, and now the sun is falling on top of the pile.

August 28th

We report: late afternoon, the sun is disappearing behind the cliffs. On the coast trail, in the shade of the trees, the path ahead is already a little too dark. There is a lot of humidity here, rising from the ocean, but also from a thin stream winding among horsetail.

August 27th

We report: it has rained most days this week, and we still get surprised whenever it happens - and then, later on again, when it goes on for more than a handful of minutes. The air is brisk at sunset, raindrops are catching on our shins when we walk on the grass.

August 26th

We report: it got dark faster than we had anticipated, inky cobalt turning into black in a few blinks. Later on, when not a hint of blue remains in the sky, we hear thunder. It comes and goes for hours, a continuous stream of storm cells. We fall asleep before it stops.

August 25th

We report: this is one of these skies that look like someone took a fine-tooth comb to them, and also had to give up on untangling them at some point. There is a clear motion to the clouds, but we cannot make sense of it. Looking out to the west, the clouds are moving the other way.

August 24th

We report: there is all this convection lately, and we saw the atmospheric pressure drop below 1010 hectopascals for the first time in many months. We have heard of thunderstorms, even tornadoes in other places. Here, we see short, unannounced showers, and timid drizzle at night.

August 23rd

We report: the sun is setting to the chattering of the jackdaws. We seem to only come across this group at this time of the day, when we are alone. We have taken to nodding at them, hoping to establish a friendship solely on that basis. The wind is whistling through phone lines.

August 22nd

We report: last week, we stood outside at night for hours on end during the peak of the Perseids. Tonight, the sky is even clearer, and we would do it again - had the temperature not dropped by half since. Even our jacket feels a little flimsy after a few minutes of staring up.

August 21st

We report: mid-morning, we see an atmospheric disturbance on the radar, and the clouds do come. With them, so does a light drizzle, and we want more rain, but we have convinced ourselves that we should not look like we do. When we go back inside, it starts raining harder.

August 20th

We report: we get a strange feeling looking at the marks left by months of unrelenting heat, mismatched with the last few days’ rain. The dry corn field rustling in the wind sounds like torn up newspapers. In the path running along its side, a wasp drinks from a muddy puddle.

August 19th

We report at sunrise, after another bout of rain late in the night: twice in a row seems promising with regard to our dreams. We hope we can establish a pattern of rainy days with a third one tomorrow. We already see some leaves unfurl from their drought-induced curl-ups.

August 18th

We report: the rain arrived a couple of days earlier than we were expecting it, which we thought was very good of it. This time around, it did not dry immediately, and we find that it is still here, on the leaves, in the grass, rhythmically dripping from the leaky gutter.

August 17th

We report: one hour before sundown, we find the low sun casting strange shadows across the clouds. To the right, rows of altocumulus floccus are floating, tightly packed together. The light changes quickly in the early evening, now that we are midway through August.

August 16th

We report: our expert has spotted two red kites sweeping across the sky. They were proud of themselves for recognising the specific bird, but they were careful to keep their distance; still not too fond of birds. Meanwhile, the cirrus spissatus are withering away.

August 15th

We report: we thought we had seen all this sunset had to offer, but we stayed a few moments longer. When the sky got almost dark enough for the first planets to emerge from its depths, some of the higher clouds started to glow - and only when those faded was it truly over.

August 14th

We report: we found more clouds throughout the day, and varying weather, too. There was wind that moved the clouds along, and in the evening, it got humid. It is a little foggy now. We keep track of it all as we go, and we wonder if we can hope for some rain in the near future.

August 13th

We report: now, there are clouds. Not just a few, not a thin layer, not stormy, let alone rainy clouds; a proper cloud cover. These would normally be somewhat unremarkable to us. Thinking about it, however, it has been months since we have seen this kind of weather.

August 12th

We report: we think something happened while we were under the cover of the trees, but we are unsure what it was. For a moment, though the sky had been cloudless since dawn, the light dimmed, and the wind suddenly rose. On the ground, the shadows of the leaves shifted.

August 11th

We report: we come across our storm chaser friend at dusk, while he is not chasing any storms. He tells us that he has taken up crosswords in his downtime, of which he has had quite a bit lately. The clouds get longer and wispier, utterly un-stormlike in their peaceful demeanour.