Reposted by Delphine
We report about the clouds that grew this tall only so they could get more light than everything, and everyone else. Our expert, shorter than we are, calls them greedy. We think they are practical. It is colder than it has been in months. Eventually, darkness falls everywhere.
September 1, 2025 at 11:51 PM
We report about the clouds that grew this tall only so they could get more light than everything, and everyone else. Our expert, shorter than we are, calls them greedy. We think they are practical. It is colder than it has been in months. Eventually, darkness falls everywhere.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: by the glassy sea, where the wind does not blow, the sun grabs us in its searing claws and does not let go. On the winding coast path, we carefully pick blackberries amongst the thorns, and they are warm in our mouth. We feel the back of our neck reddening.
August 17, 2025 at 11:05 PM
We report: by the glassy sea, where the wind does not blow, the sun grabs us in its searing claws and does not let go. On the winding coast path, we carefully pick blackberries amongst the thorns, and they are warm in our mouth. We feel the back of our neck reddening.
Reposted by Delphine
We report in the shade of this day, still warm, still a heartbeat there. We forgot to do many of the things we had set out to do, we missed a lot of the clouds, we opened doors and never closed any of them. None of it waited for us to come back, but we get to try again tomorrow.
August 17, 2025 at 12:43 AM
We report in the shade of this day, still warm, still a heartbeat there. We forgot to do many of the things we had set out to do, we missed a lot of the clouds, we opened doors and never closed any of them. None of it waited for us to come back, but we get to try again tomorrow.
Reposted by Delphine
We report on a stormy morning: we had been expecting this weather last night, or even yesterday afternoon, but it came late. We were still waiting for it. The first bit of thunder is long, uninterrupted, like a drum roll. It is still far away; we can wait a little longer.
August 15, 2025 at 12:14 AM
We report on a stormy morning: we had been expecting this weather last night, or even yesterday afternoon, but it came late. We were still waiting for it. The first bit of thunder is long, uninterrupted, like a drum roll. It is still far away; we can wait a little longer.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: it does not always feel very right, naming clouds. Sometimes, it seems inadequate, not to mention a hardship, to point at a mirage, and to call it out in its most transient, liminal form. The words are never enough to define what is never static, always ephemeral.
August 6, 2025 at 12:03 AM
We report: it does not always feel very right, naming clouds. Sometimes, it seems inadequate, not to mention a hardship, to point at a mirage, and to call it out in its most transient, liminal form. The words are never enough to define what is never static, always ephemeral.
Reposted by Delphine
We report as the sun is bruising purple behind clouds. It takes us some days to realise it, but this August already feels like a summer's end. As always, we smell it in the air; subtle, but something colours it with deep, earthy tones. Today, there is melancholy in newborn light.
August 4, 2025 at 11:08 PM
We report as the sun is bruising purple behind clouds. It takes us some days to realise it, but this August already feels like a summer's end. As always, we smell it in the air; subtle, but something colours it with deep, earthy tones. Today, there is melancholy in newborn light.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: on this diluvian day, we obtained a customary twelve minutes break so that we could ensure that the sun still existed. Once these twelve minutes had elapsed, our star dipped into the lowest clouds, and the rain took up once again, a little louder than before.
July 20, 2025 at 12:21 AM
We report: on this diluvian day, we obtained a customary twelve minutes break so that we could ensure that the sun still existed. Once these twelve minutes had elapsed, our star dipped into the lowest clouds, and the rain took up once again, a little louder than before.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: just east of the sun, the light is scattering endlessly, crossing through the spectrum several times over. We live in that space for a moment, somewhere between indigo and cyan, or orange and magenta. The diffraction is still happening on our eyelids when we blink.
May 14, 2025 at 12:21 AM
We report: just east of the sun, the light is scattering endlessly, crossing through the spectrum several times over. We live in that space for a moment, somewhere between indigo and cyan, or orange and magenta. The diffraction is still happening on our eyelids when we blink.
Reposted by Delphine
We report while the last lights of sunset go out: even on such an overcast day, we notice how bright the evenings of mid-spring are. It has rained a lot today, the air smells like a million different things, and the birds are singing louder than ever. The pink lingers in the sky.
May 12, 2025 at 11:11 PM
We report while the last lights of sunset go out: even on such an overcast day, we notice how bright the evenings of mid-spring are. It has rained a lot today, the air smells like a million different things, and the birds are singing louder than ever. The pink lingers in the sky.
Reposted by Delphine
We report under a busy sky: the swifts are flying at eye level, smooth, low arcs to catch pollen beetles and flies. There is warmth suspended in the air, but each gust of wind shakes it; we feel the crisp humidity against our cheeks. Somewhere in the low grass, crickets chirp.
May 11, 2025 at 12:07 AM
We report under a busy sky: the swifts are flying at eye level, smooth, low arcs to catch pollen beetles and flies. There is warmth suspended in the air, but each gust of wind shakes it; we feel the crisp humidity against our cheeks. Somewhere in the low grass, crickets chirp.
Reposted by Delphine
We report rainbow weather: a spring shower is meeting the course of the sun, and it is difficult to see much of anything between the rain and the light in our eyes. The rain is falling harder than we had expected, but the sun is also shining brighter, loud in a different way.
May 7, 2025 at 12:26 AM
We report rainbow weather: a spring shower is meeting the course of the sun, and it is difficult to see much of anything between the rain and the light in our eyes. The rain is falling harder than we had expected, but the sun is also shining brighter, loud in a different way.
Reposted by Delphine
We report in the late evening: it is all a bit much. The wind is strong and blowing from an unusual direction, the clouds are expanding to monstrous proportions, and the light feels apocalyptic in nature. When it starts raining, it seems like an appropriate climax to the sunset.
May 9, 2025 at 12:29 AM
We report in the late evening: it is all a bit much. The wind is strong and blowing from an unusual direction, the clouds are expanding to monstrous proportions, and the light feels apocalyptic in nature. When it starts raining, it seems like an appropriate climax to the sunset.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: the sunrise is revealing new clouds where we thought there were none, back when the whole sky was a uniform middle blue. Now a breeze starts to round out the clouds, and things are suddenly moving much faster while, as usual, we struggle to muster a single thought.
May 1, 2025 at 12:08 AM
We report: the sunrise is revealing new clouds where we thought there were none, back when the whole sky was a uniform middle blue. Now a breeze starts to round out the clouds, and things are suddenly moving much faster while, as usual, we struggle to muster a single thought.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: the sun is crawling its way up through the clouds, and the fog is keeping a hold on the ground as best as it can, but this already feels like a sunny day. We are watching the flowers rise to face the sky, slowly opening. We can hear the dew dripping off the leaves.
April 26, 2025 at 11:54 PM
We report: the sun is crawling its way up through the clouds, and the fog is keeping a hold on the ground as best as it can, but this already feels like a sunny day. We are watching the flowers rise to face the sky, slowly opening. We can hear the dew dripping off the leaves.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: through the unpredictable days of April, the clouds rise and fall within moments, and sun and rain ceaselessly chase each other. It seems that at last, one has caught up to the other; we got a shower at sunset, a brief burst from clouds we cannot locate.
April 18, 2025 at 11:53 PM
We report: through the unpredictable days of April, the clouds rise and fall within moments, and sun and rain ceaselessly chase each other. It seems that at last, one has caught up to the other; we got a shower at sunset, a brief burst from clouds we cannot locate.
Reposted by Delphine
Seems a little concerning that the main ways people use AI now is to... outsource being human hbr.org/2025/04/how-...
April 11, 2025 at 5:58 AM
Seems a little concerning that the main ways people use AI now is to... outsource being human hbr.org/2025/04/how-...
Reposted by Delphine
We report: it is only with the spring that we realise the world is covered in blackthorn. The white flowers have sprouted everywhere, taking over the hills and the roadsides, reflecting the sunshine. Our expert is covered in petals when they meet us today. We do not say anything.
April 4, 2025 at 12:04 AM
We report: it is only with the spring that we realise the world is covered in blackthorn. The white flowers have sprouted everywhere, taking over the hills and the roadsides, reflecting the sunshine. Our expert is covered in petals when they meet us today. We do not say anything.
Reposted by Delphine
We report as we are attempting to pinpoint the smell of sunrise: perhaps the colour of the clouds makes a difference. Perhaps pink is a little bit sweet, just a splash in the aroma of fresh-fallen rain, and the new growth of grass. We inhale some drizzle and sneeze a few times.
March 22, 2025 at 12:56 AM
We report as we are attempting to pinpoint the smell of sunrise: perhaps the colour of the clouds makes a difference. Perhaps pink is a little bit sweet, just a splash in the aroma of fresh-fallen rain, and the new growth of grass. We inhale some drizzle and sneeze a few times.
Reposted by Delphine
We report in transience: there is not much time for the sky today, or so we try to convince ourselves. In truth, we steal moments, shapes and colours, and guess at the temperature of the light. We crack a window to let in the smell of the rain, and the wind slams it wide open.
March 15, 2025 at 11:40 PM
We report in transience: there is not much time for the sky today, or so we try to convince ourselves. In truth, we steal moments, shapes and colours, and guess at the temperature of the light. We crack a window to let in the smell of the rain, and the wind slams it wide open.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: at this moment, whether we were very busy, whether we had a purpose to fill, we do not remember. We can only treat the little wild part of ourselves to the windy sunshine that stopped us in our tracks. There is an echo of all the times we stood in the sun before.
March 14, 2025 at 11:57 PM
We report: at this moment, whether we were very busy, whether we had a purpose to fill, we do not remember. We can only treat the little wild part of ourselves to the windy sunshine that stopped us in our tracks. There is an echo of all the times we stood in the sun before.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: the sunset has dragged us deep underwater, slowly sapping every colour but blue from the atmosphere. We hear the sounds of the nearby highway especially well tonight, a constant stream of noise which wallpapers the back of our mind; something of the damp in the air.
March 12, 2025 at 11:19 PM
We report: the sunset has dragged us deep underwater, slowly sapping every colour but blue from the atmosphere. We hear the sounds of the nearby highway especially well tonight, a constant stream of noise which wallpapers the back of our mind; something of the damp in the air.
Reposted by Delphine
We report on the arrival of light: by the time morning came, we had re-imagined the concept of sunrises a hundred times in our dreams. When the sun did rise, it was of course precisely different from each of these dreams; all-encompassing, it somehow carried even sound and smell.
March 6, 2025 at 12:50 AM
We report on the arrival of light: by the time morning came, we had re-imagined the concept of sunrises a hundred times in our dreams. When the sun did rise, it was of course precisely different from each of these dreams; all-encompassing, it somehow carried even sound and smell.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: we constantly underestimate the fabric of our universe, even as we are aware that it is a much larger, much more colourful tapestry than we could ever conceive. For every little thing that has been understood and explained, there are millions more that escape meaning.
February 1, 2025 at 1:10 AM
We report: we constantly underestimate the fabric of our universe, even as we are aware that it is a much larger, much more colourful tapestry than we could ever conceive. For every little thing that has been understood and explained, there are millions more that escape meaning.
Reposted by Delphine
We report: there is rock salt on the sides of the roads, and black ice on the parking lot where our expert's car was parked through the night. A surprising quantity of birds can be heard in the countryside. We find a few gathered around mistletoe in an aspen, picking at berries.
January 29, 2025 at 1:20 AM
We report: there is rock salt on the sides of the roads, and black ice on the parking lot where our expert's car was parked through the night. A surprising quantity of birds can be heard in the countryside. We find a few gathered around mistletoe in an aspen, picking at berries.