We report in the sun: it is certainly not warm enough that we feel it through our clothes, but we can feel the sunshine on our face. We stand there, our eyes closed, facing the sun. It is bright crimson, and we can hear the new foliage swaying, whispers in the spring breeze.

We report: evening, a drizzle. Even through the light rain, this sunset seems remarkably late in the day, now that April is coming to a close. The clouds are pooling overhead, but many parts of the sky remain clear. A blackbird hops around, cheerful trills in the dying light.

We report in the last dregs of the night: this waning gibbous moon is making its way down to the horizon, while we painfully attempt to make our way up. Half of the city is awake and busy - we would not mind belonging to the second half for a little while longer, asleep and idle.