A cold front moved through Wednesday afternoon, bringing clouds and rain. After the front, there was some clearing, just enough for the sun to illuminate the clouds to the east, over town.
The more I look at this shot, the more I like it. I took it with the panorama mode on my iPhone. I keep being impressed with what nice shots it can make.
I walked the dogs before noon, while it was cloudy but not raining. We are past the fall peak for the leaves, but some maples still held onto some color.
A cold front moved through Sunday. Before it passed, it brought some high clouds. I noticed them as I was driving home from running an errand. Most were cirrus uncinus, or mare’s tail clouds. Later, near sunset, when I took the dogs out, they were tinted pink by the setting sun. They looked like a painter had dabbed pale pink in the sky, and then whipped the brush up and away. I immediately dragged the dogs back inside to get my phone. By the time I got back outside, just a matter of seconds, the clouds had changed. They were still nice, though.
If you look carefully there is a hint of a bright spot and a little color in one of the clouds. It’s in the left third of the picture, about two thirds of the way from the top. Here’s a closer look.
I’m not quite sure what caused this effect. It was too far from the sun to be a parhelion, or sun dog, but it was about at the same elevation as the sun, which was out of sight behind the mountain. The cloud seems to be too far from the sun to be iridescent clouds, and the colors don’t like quite right to me. I thought it might be part of a parhelic arc, which circles the horizon at the same elevation as parhelia, but those are generally white, without color. If it were part of a parhelic arc, you might have expected to see other parts of it in the clouds, since some seem to be at the right elevation. But maybe not. I’m not aware of any other arc or halo that would appear where it did, so, in the absence of better information, I’ll just assume it’s part of a parhelic arc.
It has been dry here at our little spot on top of the mountain. There has been spotty rain around, but very little of it has fallen on us. Almost three weeks ago we watched as rain moved across town towards us.
There were at least two separate showers, one to the right of this image, and another to the left. The falling rain eventually obscured town. Then it moved closer, obscuring the ridge that is in bright sunlight in this image. We prepared for the rain. I expected raindrops to start falling on the steps down from the porch. We waited.
And then, nothing. It missed us again.
We have watched a band of rain on our weather radar app approaching us and then dissipating or splitting and passing around us many times. I think I have mentioned it before. That sort of thing is not really unusual; rain showers hit one place and miss another all the time. But it has happened so many times that I was beginning to wonder whether there was actually some geological or meteorological phenomenon that made our particular spot on the mountain less likely to get rain.
And then I talked to a bicyclist I see fairly often while I’m walking the dogs. He lives in a neighborhood about four or five miles from us and often climbs the mountain on his rides. He stopped and we talked about rain. He told me that he felt like his particular little spot in his neighborhood was also singled out for drought.
So, two places not far apart that have some strange phenomenon that suppresses rain? I don’t think so. That convinced me that nature’s rain grudge against us was an illusion. It seems like it happens a lot because we notice it when it happens, but we don’t notice it when it doesn’t happen.
We can’t see the sunset from our front porch, or, really, from any place on the mountain. But the eastern sky, opposite the sunset, is often nice enough.
This was Tuesday afternoon. It had been sunny all day, but started to get cloudy later in the afternoon.
It has been dry right here on our little spot on the mountain, although areas around us are getting rain. Leah had a doctor’s appointment last Wednesday. On the way home the rain was so heavy it was hard to see the road. Then, about three miles from our house, it ended. We drove out of heavy rain onto dry pavement. The only consolation is that the nearby rain will help maintain our well. At least I hope so.
In other news, Leah is suffering from nerve pain in her leg. I think it’s sciatica, but her doctor hasn’t actually named it. She does agree that it’s a never, however. The bad thing about nerve pain is that normal pain relievers don’t seem to work all that well. Leah is supposed to have an MRI on Friday. We both hope it shows a path to some kind of resolution.
Last Friday on my regular morning dog walk, we went down into the valley. At the first sharp curve on the way down, someone had dumped a pickup-truck load of renovation debris. It was mainly carpet padding, along with some wood trim and wallpaper. I posted a picture and description on Leah’s Facebook page. A lot of people commented; one gave the number for the county police department officers who handle that kind of thing. I called to report it on Tuesday. Maybe they can figure out who did it. For a first offense the police give them a choice: clean it up or get a ticket. I have heard that the ticket also depends on the guilty party’s attitude.
I found out from one of the Facebook commenters that the curve where the trash was dumped is the Horse Shoe. It’s a very sharp curve, if not a really sharp name. The next sharp curve down is the Water Holler, named after the small perennial creek that flows in the narrow valley there. I like that name.
I have never figured out how the creek continues to run in even the driest days. It’s not that far from the top of the mountain, and it doesn’t seem to drain a huge area. Another unanswered question about ground water.
And finally, even though I am happily retired and do not miss work even in the slightest, it looks like I will be doing some. Fortunately, I will be able to work from home, and the hours are very flexible. I asked my former boss how many hours that would mean, and she said anywhere from five to forty hours a week. I suppose I can handle that.
I saw my orthopedic surgeon’s PA on Monday. My knee was still swollen but not nearly as much as when I took the photo in the previous post. I showed the picture to the PA and a nurse. They were impressed. The nurse said if it had been that big when I came in, it would have been their new record.
The PA drew some fluid from the knee with a fairly big syringe. Not horse-sized syringe, but large-human sized. He got a little more than two syringes full. My knee is somewhat smaller but still a little swollen and stiff. They also gave each knee a shot of lidocaine and triamcinolone, which is what is apparently used these days instead of cortisone. He wanted both knees to start from the same place. He promised immediate relief. It is better, but I am definitely not back to 100 percent.
Actually, it is no longer possible get to 100 percent. On my best days, I think my knees are around 80 percent, as long as I don’t ask them to do too much. I’ll see tonight if I get an achey knee around 3 am, which is my normal now.
On a brighter note, we had a nice, full rainbow in the front yard Monday afternoon.
I used my iPhone’s panorama mode to get this. You can see a lighter band on the left side of the image, which is an artifact. I must have jiggled the phone there.
The ends of the rainbow are not in our yard, so no pot of gold for us.
Copyright 2013 Mark V. Paris
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