October 4th - 12:36 AM
12:36 AM: the moon rose lightlessly behind the clouds, and is just now showing
October 4th - 11:51 AM
11:51 AM: is still pushing and pulling, and the sky keeps changing. There is a depth to the air, not quite warm
October 4th - 10:33 AM
10:33 AM: that we are due for a storm in the afternoon. We hum, unwilling to form an opinion on the subject, but the wind from last night
October 4th - 9:19 AM
9:19 AM: the ocean over everything else. We are watching small crabs burying themselves into the sand. Our expert thinks
October 4th - 8:44 AM
8:44 AM: the blue of the sky is an intense turquoise at the zenith, almost like it is making up for something. We hear
October 4th - 7:58 AM
7:58 AM: but the day comes alive that much brighter for the chill in the wind. The sunrise is too quick for how long we waited for it. We blink, and
October 4th - 6:54 AM
6:54 AM: suddenly, early morning mist swallows the sky. Under the streetlights, it is the coldest it has been all night,
October 4th - 5:01 AM
5:01 AM: we think we are only now getting used to the darkness. Our expert is denying their sleepiness while their eyelids are drooping, and
October 4th - 4:28 AM
4:28 AM: on a wind that is drying our eyes. Each star has its own halo, and our yawns are getting larger and larger. We long for our bed, but
October 4th - 3:41 AM
3:41 AM: we feel lightheaded looking up. We only notice the clouds by the way they block the starlight now, rushing between our fingers
October 4th - 2:04AM
2:04 AM: the stars are a bright cacophony of bells, and as they multiply in the sky,
October 4th
3:17 PM: get stronger, creating a shimmer over the trees. We cannot pinpoint the moment when it gets dark, yet
October 4th - 2:24 PM
2:24 PM: like the rain that is just starting to fall. This light drizzle is still hesitant, it could evaporate within minutes, or
October 4th - 1:12 AM
1:12 AM: while the clouds reluctantly part and immediately knit back together. In the empty darkness of small hours,
October 4th - 1:13 PM
1:13 PM: under the pooling clouds, with the sense that our expert was perhaps correct in their predictions. The air smells
October 3rd
We report while the wind rises: the clouds are getting stretched to the width of the sky, brass and gold from the stormy sunset. In the east, nothing remains of the light already, but the rain is moving in from there, slowly enough to let the day wane in peace.
October 2nd
We report: civil twilight, the sun is just beneath the horizon line. The cloud cover is precipitating nightfall, one drop of ink for the hour to turn blue. It is humid like it should be raining, like a word hanging on the tip of our tongue. We stay past nautical twilight.
October 1st
We report about this crumpled October sky: the light is coming out dim and yellow through the parallel wrinkles. The clouds are painstakingly ironing themselves out with windy strokes. This is one of many of our mornings when the waking up is still around to be done.
September 30th
We report: we do not always know what we are looking for in the sky. Something new, probably, a revelation, or a secret, a shape only we were good enough, fast enough to see. Sometimes, something familiar, a memory or a story that we have heard before. All of it at the same time.
September 29th
We report during a slow burn of a sunset: first, a yellow glow on the horizon, and then the wisps of gold streaking through the sky. By the time we went out to see more, the artefacts of the sun were holding the whole thing together, delicate architecture built over an hour.