Browsed by
Category: weather

ISO Blue Skies

ISO Blue Skies

Comments 0 Comment

You know you’ve had a soggy summer when some of your best weather days have happened in Ireland! After a downpour Friday night, mist and spray Saturday and rain all day yesterday, I’m remembering the blue skies of the Emerald Isle.

As I walked into the office building this morning, I noticed the squeaking of my tennis shoes on the polished floor. That and “squish-squish” have become the soundtrack of our rainy days. The umbrella that I keep in my bag for emergency showers has been pressed into service more times than I can count.

And with a hurricane barreling toward the East Coast this may just the beginning of our wet weather woes.

For now, I’m going to think dry thoughts  — not sure exactly what those are … but I’ll come up with some.

(St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin. Not a cloud in the sky.)

Smile Lines

Smile Lines

Comments 0 Comment

It’s the last day of a soggy July, and I’m reminding myself that if we have to have extreme weather, better excess moisture than excess heat. People in northern California wouldn’t mind some rain about now, as they struggle with temps of 110 and a fire so intense that it’s creating its own winds and tornadoes.

Compared with that, I can easily find something nice to say about the frequent showers and thundershowers, the coziness they impart on a rainy Saturday afternoon. How they nurture the young trees we planted this spring. How little watering there is to do.

Of course, if I really could choose, I’d prefer ample rains that fall at night and leave the days sunny and clear. But since I can’t, I’m remembering lines from a Robert Frost poem about reconciling the choices we can’t make. They always make me smile.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if I had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Sea Legs

Sea Legs

Comments 0 Comment

After days inside, a body longs to be outdoors. So this body made its way to the deck as dawn was breaking, lured the little doggie outside, too. I found a seat cushion that wasn’t totally saturated, and sat down on one of the wrought-iron chairs.

Before I could type a word, a drop of water plopped on my screen. Another morning shower — or the bamboo shaking off its excess? I chose the latter. Not that it’s up to me, of course, but at that point in the day the morning still seemed up for grabs. I wouldn’t go inside, not yet.

I sit and watch Copper, who’s sticking his head between the deck railings and screwing up his courage. A few minutes later he’s trotted down the stairs into the sodden yard.

The two of us have sea legs. The dry world is new to us. But we’ll get the hang of it; I know we will.

The Deluge

The Deluge

Comments 0 Comment

Woke up this morning to a deluge, to the tapping of drops on leaves, the plopping of water on roof, to the gurgle of rain through the downspouts. It will rain several inches today — this on top of yesterday’s sporadic downpours, the record-breaking six inches on Saturday and Sunday’s showers (most of which I blessedly missed).

This is one heck of a weather system. The ground is sodden, the impatiens are drowned (one of the flower pots holds water) and the yard is squishy soft. Copper refuses to go out of his own accord and must be lured with leash and walk.

Rain like this just doesn’t happen in July. It’s a confluence of many factors, said the weather guys. A winter-like storm, almost a nor’easter churning up the coast, then parking itself over the mid-Atlantic and not budging for hours. (That was Saturday.)

All I know is that the rain hasn’t ended yet. Downpours are expected through Wednesday.

I’m glad I stored up some Florida sunshine in my psychic account; I’ll be drawing on it this week!

(I like my clouds fluffy and white, thank you very much.)

Dipping my Toes

Dipping my Toes

Comments 0 Comment

The sounds I heard outside this morning didn’t make sense. Were the taps and creaks from errant branches, from the building warming in the tropical sun? Only when I looked out the window did I see the rain.

It doesn’t matter; I have plenty to do inside as well as out. I brought books and notes and half-finished essays. Brain food. Things to think about and read.

A trip to the beach rests the body and the mind. So I sleep more, worry less (or try to!) and ignore weather reports. How long will it rain? The clouds are dark, but I see some blue. Did the storm break the humidity?

Only one way to find out. I’ll finish this post and my morning pages, then dip my toes into the day.

Natural Cool

Natural Cool

Comments 0 Comment

We leapt from a rainy June to a sizzling July, and are now measuring the heat index instead of the precipitation.  On my slow walks this weekend I sought the relative cool of the shady stretches that line Folkstone Drive.

Is there any cool better than natural cool? I know what the air conditioning devotees will say. Of course there is. It’s the cranked-down chill of a 72-degree office or living room. And don’t get me wrong. On days when the mercury climbs toward 100, it’s mighty nice to step inside a well-chilled house.

But there is also something to be said for the deep woods, for ferns waving in a slight breeze, for soil that is still a bit moist from last month’s downpours, for a creek gurgling in the distance.

For sections of road where tree branches lace overhead and spread their shade to the pavement below. For old houses with thick walls flanked by tall oaks.

There is something to be said for natural cool.

Kingdom of the Wind

Kingdom of the Wind

Comments 0 Comment

When the wind blows this hard (gusts up to 67 miles an hour), I feel like I’ve entered another country, a howling, raging place, a Kingdom of the Wind. I wake to its sound.

The bamboo beats a rough staccato on the siding, and there’s a clanging I can’t quite place. Is it a rogue bucket on the deck, or old Jacob Marley rattling his chains?

With winds this high, either Dulles Airport is closed, or diverting its traffic to an alternate runway, one that goes … right over our house! So on top of wondering if a tree will fall, I’m worried that a plane will, too.

An unsettled morning to be sure, with government offices closed and my office shuttered. I have one question: Will the errant branch we call the Sword of Damocles finally be blown out of the old oak? It’s dancing madly out there now, but is so wedged in place that it lingers still.

Just lost power … just got it back …

It will be a long day here in the Kingdom of the Wind.

Phantom Snow

Phantom Snow

Comments 0 Comment

Sometimes I think we know too much about the weather, about European and North American Mesoscale (NAM) models, about high pressures and cold air damming. After all, we’re not meteorologists; at best our knowledge is a touching glance.

But then I learn just enough to gain a vision.

Take yesterday’s “mixed precipitation” event, which produced coated boughs and slick sidewalks. I’d heard that due to low dew points, it would be snowing up in the atmosphere before it touched earth. In my highly unscientific understanding of this I imagine the air cooling, filling with moisture, to give passage to the first flakes, to pave the way.

It’s an amateur’s view of the universe: phantom snow falling on fluffy clouds, a shower of white that no one can see. A poetic description that cannot possibly be true, but I like to think of it that way.

Two-Hour Delay

Two-Hour Delay

Comments 0 Comment

When I was a kid, you either had school or you did not. There was no in between. By the time I had children, the two-hour delay was well established.

In many ways it makes sense. Icy mornings often moderate, and two hours can make a big difference in the condition of roads and sidewalks. Having just driven to Metro on a day deemed too tricky for an on-time start, I can vouch that the county made the right call today.

But I can remember what a mess it was when the kids were young and school started at 11:05 rather than the (already late) 9:05. I could barely transcribe an interview before they were home again. And there’s something about the moral relativity of a two-hour delay that disheartens me. It’s mushy, especially when employed too often.

Perhaps that’s why I slogged into the office today. It was hard … but it was pure.

(We only got an inch of snow today; the photos is from 2010.) 

The Howling

The Howling

Comments 0 Comment

We’re back to winter here, with a blast of Arctic air that’s sending us down to 10 degrees wind chill tonight. Back to three layers, plus coat, hat, gloves and scarf.

Inside, it’s warm and cozy — as long as I ignore the wind.

Why does the wind howl, anyway? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself this winter.

When wind whips around a building or a tree, it splits up. The sound comes from the two currents rejoining on the other side, according to an article on the website Mental Floss.

Leafy trees absorb more of the vibration than bare ones do, so the howling is louder this time of year.

The explanation makes sense, but doesn’t stop the goosebumps. A howling wind is still a scary sound — even with a scientific explanation.