Signs

There has been evidence of spring lately. Last Sunday afternoon it was definitive.

Banks of fog in the morning

Banks of fog in the morning

What you see here is drifts of fog in the low spots off to the east from the mountain at sunrise on Sunday morning, March 31. Saturday had been rainy, but during the night the clouds cleared and there was some nice radiative cooling. That cooled air settled in the low spots and the moisture in the humid air condensed. But that’s not a sign of spring; it’s common all year long. It’s what you don’t see here that is actually a definitive sign of astronomical or solar spring. The view off the deck towards town is due east, and the sun is coming up to the left, or north, in this view. On the first day of astronomical spring the sun rose due east, and since it’s too far north to be visible here, it is, by definition, spring, or at least past the vernal equinox. So at least in the solar sense that is proof, but spring comes at different times in different areas, and the location of the sunrise alone doesn’t mean spring is here on the mountain.

Faded daffodils and vinca

Faded daffodils and vinca

The daffodils have bloomed and faded. But daffodils can bloom early, and ours did. The vinca minor, or lesser periwinkle, in the background, blooms year-round. The blooms are more numerous in the spring, but they’re here all year long. So the daffodils and vinca don’t provide reliable evidence.

A hint of green on the mountain

A hint of green on the mountain

A few trees on the mountain are showing some green. We’re later up here than down in the lower elevations. It’s a sign, but not definitive.

Blackberries greening and maples reddening

Blackberries greening and maples reddening

There’s green on the blackberry bushes and red on the maples.

Pine candles

Pine candles

The pines have brought out their candles but they haven’t been lit yet. I have seen, or rather felt, some pollen on the windshield, but nothing like the coat of gritty yellow we get later in the spring. But I have been seeing candles for a while. Not proof.

Dogwood buds

Dogwood buds

The buds have been on the dogwoods since last year, and they aren’t showing signs of opening yet.

I worked in the yard Saturday, and it was warm enough that I had to stop every few minutes to wipe sweat out of my eyes. But we can get 70-degree days in the dead of winter, so that’s not really a definitive sign.

No, the real sign that spring has arrived was something else that got into my eyes: bugs. The bugs were flying around my face, landing in my ears and committing suicide by diving into my eyes. They will pretty much disappear later as the weather gets really hot, but for the time being, they are a really annoying but pretty much definitive sign that spring is here.

Opposite ends

Leah said it was snowing at home on Saturday. It was not snowing where I was.

Sunbathers and a few surfers at Seal Beach

Sunbathers and a few surfers at Seal Beach

I was in Seal Beach, California. I walked the two miles from the hotel to the beach. For some reason I expected it to be deserted, but, after all, it was Saturday, 80 degrees and partly cloudy. There were lots of people out. A few were even surfing.

Surfing at Seal Beach

Surfing at Seal Beach

The surf was not really up. There was a long wait and a short ride.

I’ll have a small amount of work to do on Sunday, probably some time in the early evening. And then on Monday, work begins in earnest. If we’re lucky, it will be 10- to 12-hour days from Monday till Friday. And no visits to the beach.

Rise and falls

This morning was the first in a long time when we could actually see the sun rise.

Sunrise from the deck -- click to enlarge

Sunrise from the deck — click to enlarge

My drive home from Huntsville, Alabama, takes me over the Little River, which flows on top of Lookout Mountain. We have had lots of rain in the last week, so the river was running pretty high. There is a waterfall just below the bridge.

The river was high

The river was high

I’ve seen it higher, but this was pretty nice.

This is what we call snow

Sometimes we get a decent amount of snow down here, but if there is even a hint, businesses and schools close and people make runs on the grocery stores for milk and bread. Most of the time, a hint is all it amounts to.

This time we got a little sleet that changed into snow. A little slush accumulated on streets, and there was a light dusting of snow on the fields and forests. It started at about 11 am, and by around noon, most of Huntsville, Al, where I work, was closing down. I was at a meeting on Redstone Arsenal when the word came that the arsenal was closing, supposedly in stages to prevent a traffic jam at the gates. But that plan didn’t really work. As soon as everyone heard that the arsenal, which includes the Marshall Space Flight Center, was closing, they left. There are about six thousand employees at Marshall, and in the thousands on the rest of the base (I’m not sure how many — a lot). Most of them left at the same time. I took this picture with my iPhone while sitting in a line of cars exiting the base. Don’t worry; I wasn’t moving at the time.

This is the worst of it

This is the worst of it — I had to turn on my windshield wipers

That was about the extent of the snow.

If you look closely you can see a line of cars on a cross street. Traffic was backed up a couple of miles trying to get through the gates and off the base. Just on the other side of the gates, the highway crosses I-565, which has five westbound lanes at that point leading out of the city. It was bumper to bumper as far west as I could see. It looked like everyone in the city was leaving. I think it would look about like this if we had been told there was going to be a nuclear strike on the city.

But Huntsville is not a huge city, so the traffic jam was over pretty quick. And so was the snow.

Cloudy on top

Saturday was a damp, fairly dark day, just like the day before. The conditions were similar to those of Christmas day. The visibility was about the same, or possibly lower.

Walking down Lavender Trail towards the gap.

Walking down Lavender Trail towards the gap.

We turned left towards Texas Valley, like we did on Christmas Day. We didn’t walk far before I realized that the fog was gone. At the bottom I turned to look back up.

The clouds hid the top of the mountain.

The clouds hide the top of the mountain.

Just like on Christmas Day, what we saw as fog on the mountain top was clouds from below. The clouds were thick enough that the top of the mountain was not visible.

The air was noticeably warmer at the bottom of the mountain, and as we walked back up I regretted wearing a long-sleeve shirt. As the day progressed, the air became warmer up at the top of the mountain, and the clouds withdrew to higher altitudes.

By 4 p.m. it was 65 F. I talked to a friend in Denver around mid-afternoon. He said they were headed to an expected high of 12 F.