Catching up on sunrise

We had some nice sunrises in the first two weeks of February, but I haven’t gotten around to posting them.

This was February 1.

cloudysunrisefeb1You can see the plume from the Euharlee power plant on the horizon. I don’t remember the temperature that day, but on a cold winter night there will typically be a fairly large electric power demand, so the plants will work hard.

This was February 5.

skypano_feb5This is actually a vertical panorama. I couldn’t quite get everything I wanted, so I (actually, Photoshop Elements) stitched two shots together.

This is from February 13.

cloudy sunrisefeb13Since the sun is rising earlier these days, I don’t get out on the deck often enough to catch the sun right at the horizon. I usually see a good sunrise when I’m walking the dogs around the house first thing in the morning. The sunrise changes so quickly that I usually can’t get back inside, grab the camera and get out on the deck in time to get the most dramatic shot. That’s why the sun is so high in the sky in these pictures.

 

 

 

 

 

A hint of fall in the air

When I walked the dogs Wednesday morning it was possible to believe that it was not going to stay hot and humid forever. Although we have had a few relatively cool nights this summer, this felt like the first real hint of fall.

We’re used to July and August being hotter than June on average, but it does seem odd when you think about the fact that the days have been getting shorter since June 21.

I made a plot of average monthly high (in red) and low (in blue) temperatures for Rome. I made it for two years so you can see how the ups and downs cycle through the year. The green line is an arbitrary number that shows how the incoming sunlight varies through the year, normalized so that the values are similar to the temperature values. What this plot shows is that temperature lags the change in heating caused by the change in incoming sunlight, both in summer and in winter.

sun_and_temps

So, the warmest days are not the longest days and the coldest days are not the shortest days. That’s because the Earth acts like a pot of water being heated on the stove; it takes a while to bring it to a boil. But in July, even with days that are shorter than in June, we’re still getting so much sunlight that the Earth wants to be warmer than it already is. We’re lucky the seasons are as short as they are. If they were longer, it would be so hot that we’d probably all have to move further north. But we’d still have to keep a winter home somewhere even further south.

In the meantime, we have opened all the windows in the house, because it’s finally cooler outside than inside.

Sundog and 22-degree halo

Friday evening right before sunset I took the dogs out to walk around the house. I looked up the street and thought I saw the sun through the clouds, but then I realized that it was actually a sundog, or parhelion. It was one of the brightest sundogs I have seen. There was about a half of the 22-degree halo, with a bright spot where the upper tangent arc would touch the halo.

sundog7feb14_2

Of course I didn’t have my camera, so I dragged the dogs back to the house and got it. In the couple of minutes it took to get the camera and get back out on the street, the sundog and halo were not quite as bright as they were before. Atmospheric displays like these can be short lived.

After I got the insurance shot, I walked up the street to try to get a view without the trees in the foreground.

sundog7feb14The 22-degree halo was strongest from the sundog up through the top of the arc, but I think there is a faint continuation clockwise in the second photo. There might have been a second sundog on the right, but, unfortunately, it was hidden from my vantage point. We don’t get good views of the sunset on our side of the mountain.

Good day sunshine

Is there a better feeling than lying in the sun on a clear, cold, windy day? No, at least if you ask the dogs.

dogs in the sun

We wait until the sun is high enough to give some warmth before we open the curtains, so sometimes there’s very little sunlight when Lucy comes into our bedroom.

a little sun

There’s a little sliver from the window. A little sun is better than none.

Zoe likes to lie in the sun, but sometimes he mistakes the location of his head for the location of his entire body.

cat on a hot carpet floor

But perhaps I do him a disservice; perhaps he simply wants to adjust his solar gain and thermal emission to maintain a constant, comfortable internal temperature. Yes, that must be it.

It’s no accident that the rear of our house faces south. When I was laying out the foundation lines for the house, I wanted the rear of the house to face as close to due south as I could manage, because I planned to have lots of windows in the south-facing side. One day I put a stake vertically in the ground, calculated the exact time of local solar noon, and waited. When it was solar noon, I made a line along the shadow of the stake. I used that line to define the direction that the house’s rear would face.

I could have simply used a compass, or waited until my watch said it was noon, but I wanted to be as accurate as possible, and both of those methods have problems. The compass would have shown me magnetic north, which, where we live, it is about four degrees away from true north. And, since each time zone is 15 degrees wide in longitude, the sun’s position at civil noon varies depending on where you are in the time zone. We are close to the western border of the Eastern Time Zone, so there would have been several degrees error from that.

Using a compass would have worked pretty well, all things considered, but since I knew the longitude of my house from a GPS receiver, I could calculate how far solar time is away from civil time, and, theoretically, get closer to true north.

Unfortunately, the sun’s azimuth (the compass direction from which the sunlight is coming) at noon at a given location varies through the year, so unless you put the stake in the ground on exactly the right date, your stake’s shadow will not point in a true north-south direction. Depending on the date, the sun’s azimuth can be a few degrees away from true south (in the northern hemisphere) at solar noon. However, a true north-south line would be the best orientation. Since the sun’s azimuth varies on both sides of the north-south line, that line would be closest on average to the sun’s azimuth.

My line was only a few degrees at most from a true north-south line, close enough that it makes very little difference in how much sun we get on a cold winter day. I could and maybe should have calculated the optimum roof overhang to provide shade in the summer and minimum interference with solar gain in the winter, but what we have is just about right.

We have six-foot sliding glass doors in the bedrooms and an eight-foot sliding glass door in the living room. We keep one side of the door in our bedroom covered with an insulation panel, so we only get half the possible solar gain in the bedroom, but that’s plenty on a sunny day. Even on sunny days when the outside temperature is below freezing, the bedroom temperature will exceed 70 degrees without running the heat. The living room will do the same.

I didn’t really maximize the house design for passive solar heating. There is no provision for increased thermal mass, so the temperature goes up quickly and then tends to go down fairly quickly when the sun dips below the pines in the back. But that’s what wood-burning stoves are for. Burning wood is just another way to get solar energy, although not as cleanly as absorbing it directly.

If I had it to do over again, I would probably change the house plan and construction a little. But I’m happy with what we have. The dogs, too.

Sunrise, 15 January

It’s been a while since I posted a sunrise picture. This morning was nice. We had an almost complete overcast with a slim opening right at the horizon. The sun came up, peeked through the opening for a few minutes, and then disappeared into the clouds.

sunrise15jan14

The plumes on the right are from the Georgia Power coal-fired generating plant at Euharlee. Most of what looks like smoke is actually steam from the cooling towers. The plant is working fairly hard because the temperature dropped a little last night. Once the sun rose far enough that the clouds hid it, the wonderful red light disappeared, and now it’s just gray.