Lily Tschudi-Campbell
@lilywritesstuff
Angry, queer hobbit who always wants to talk about clouds. @HamlineMFAC alum. Bookseller at @northfigbooks, formerly at @RedBalloonBooks. They/them.
قد يعجبك
PENELOPE AND THE CLOUDWEAVERS ft: 🗺️11yo anxious wannabe cartographer 🦊smol fox bff ☁️a magical society in the clouds (🏳️🌈whose language doesn't have gendered pronouns) 🌿Miyazaki vibes 🏠losing your home ⛈️a terrible storm 🧚faerie bureaucracy #PitMad #MG #F #LGBT #MH #OWN
One year of this genocide on Palestine. An estimate of 100,000 dead, 902 families wiped out, 175 journalists murdered, 93% of schools destroyed, 89% of hospitals destroyed, 75,000 tons of bombs dropped on innocent civilians.
It’s a privilege to have a clan of #badgers visit our garden on a nightly basis. *Best viewed with the sound up* #NationalBadgerDay
We report: the sunset was mostly over by the time we went out, and it was already dark enough that we were looking for our feet on the ground. More bats than birds, their lopsided flight swooping low in odd curves. The lights turn on, street by street, and the clouds turn grey.
We report in late June, the early summer days: the weather has been odd, in a familiar way. It is a succession of muggy days that do not know where they are going. As a result, we gave up on trying to guess ourselves, and now sit in the liminal space between sunshine and rain.
We report: we watched the clouds rise with great interest this afternoon. Our expert was certain that they would mature into cumulonimbus, and we had no good reason to disagree, but we secretly wanted them to be wrong. The clouds fell down on their sides, a failed little storm.
We report: we have got some familiarity with asperitas at this point in time. We even know to look out for them in certain atmospheric conditions. Today, the air is thick and heavy, but there is no storm system on the approach. The clouds consider the concept of abstraction.
We report: we had to investigate the sunset in order to see it. We first saw it in the east, the houses that were lit orange, and then above us, the golden rims on the dusk dark clouds. It took us a long time to find a breach among buildings, but we did, and the light poured out.
We report: we barely feel like we have slept at all. It looks like the morning clouds might be the same ones we saw disappear into the darkness at midnight. Our expert's yawns fogs up their glasses, and we see rain in their eyes. At the station, an overhead line buzzes dryly.
We report about an afternoon in early June: it smells like the flowering privet hedge we are walking along, something heady and fresh. Our knees are a garish green. We knelt in the grass to watch a stag beetle totter through a field earlier, and then followed it on all fours.
We report: there was the rumble of thunder a few times before we realised was it was, and by then, the storm was on the horizon. We looked out for some rain, or lightning, but it was all long gone. The sky cleared out in a few minutes, and we felt at a bit of a loss.
We report: the wild strawberries are reddening, the poppies and the thistles are flowering. We are in the space between the beginning of meteorological summer and the beginning of astronomical summer, which makes for petty, useless debates in daily conversations.
We report: the clouds have been slowly accumulating, coming to a standstill above our head. They are blocking a good amount of the light, though it is early in the afternoon. There is a warm breeze down here that ruffles our hair and makes the trees sway lightly.
We report on a damp morning: we are heading towards the end of May after a rather clement few days. We are not yet so close to summer that the warmth lingers. It seeps in slowly, but as soon as the sky clouds over, it dissipates within moments. So this day begins, in drizzle.
can’t even make a meringue without separating the eggs these days. because of yolk
We report: we might go into the clouds and never make it back someday. Nobody would know where we went. We think about it, often, as if it were something that could really happen. Today, we stare up at this massive edifice that encompasses the whole sky, and we are already there.
We report: as soon as the sun got high enough in the sky (early, the solstice is getting nearer), it got rather warm. No wind to speak of, so when the clouds came, they were welcome. Billowing mountains grew through the long afternoon from the dust on the horizon.
We report on the brightest day yet this year: it has not rained in a few days. Because it is rather warm today, the smell in the air is one that brings us back to a very specific moment - many years back, spring, a cloud moves to let sunshine onto our face. We sneeze.
We report: salty in the back of our throat, the morning has opened up so that, even if it is early, we feel welcome to be alive in it. We wait for our commute and fall back asleep a little while standing. We confuse twilights and we go home in a dream - what an odd day already.
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