Scratching to Escape

 As I was checking my phone this morning, while sitting on the porch, I noticed a fine coating of pollen on the screen. The longer I sat, the more accumulated. According to the weather folks, tree pollen is heavy today, and I can testify they're correct. My sinuses agree. Right now, it's mostly oak pollen. The pine pollen will soon appear, and the pond will have a thin coat of yellow on the surface.

The last few days had high temperatures in the low eighties. With the high humidity, the best thing is to run the air conditioner. Opening windows makes the house damp, and the dampness makes everything uncomfortable. This weather will end tomorrow night, and by Monday morning, the temperature will be in the low thirties. Winter will come back, and most around here will have to put their shorts up until the next warm spell. 

I live about 6 miles from a construction material yard. In the yard are thousands of tons of different size stones, including the different gradient concrete aggregates and the crushed limestone for road base. Railroad tracks are in the yard, which allows storage as rail cars are unloaded. They're called unit trains and they're usually somewhere around 100 hopper cars filled with about 100 tons in each car. It's how railroad companies ship such things, and unless a supplier has the facility, the supplier is forced to buy the material from a supplier that does have the facilities to handle a unit train. Unless the supplier has equipment to dump the cars, a contractor with specialized equipment unloads the car by either a clam-shell bucket attached to an excavator, or the excavator travels up a ramp, straddles the sides of the car, and the operator moves down the cars while unloading to either trucks, or to where front end loaders can stack the material. 

Tonight, as I was sitting on the porch after midnight, I heard the low rumble of the train engines. If I had to guess, they were either delivering filled cars, or removing those already empty. The low rumble would fluctuate as the engines revved to handle the increased load on the friction motors. When the train was ready to leave, I heard the engineer sound the horn. One long blast, then another long blast, a short blast, and the final long blast. I was told this is a cadence for "The train is coming". The damp, cool night air allowed a clear sound. For someone not knowing what it was, the low sound would be missed in the other background noises of the night. 

The rumble of the cars slowly faded as the train moved away. I listened longer, and two owls called to each other. The male would call, and the female would answer. Their call disturbed a neighbor's dog, which barked a warning for good cause. 

The dew is light tonight. That's usually an indication of rain in the near future, which matches the forecast. We have a stationary front sitting on top of us, and the uplift between the two air masses will lead to showers. So far, heavy rain isn't forecast, but than can change. Stationary fronts have led to torrential downpours in the past, and the low pressure impulses along the front can lead to some areas getting rainfalls in double digits. 

So, Summer is starting to fade. How much time before we have the first strong cold front is unknown, but the event is inevitable. The night temperature will drop to well below seventy degrees, the air will become dry, and the promise of cold days will become reality. I'm ready for it. Yard work won't be necessary, the insects will disappear, and the cool, clear nights will offer stargazing.

I awoke at 1:00 am. As I laid in bed, I listened, couldn't find any sound that was out of place, and realized I had a tiny bit of heartburn, so I got out of bed. I dressed, walked into the kitchen, took an antacid and walked out on the porch. 

Outside, it was a typical Summer night in many ways. The temperature was in the upper seventies, the humidity was thick, a few night critters were busy with their cadence, and Scorpio was high toward the south. The difference was to the east. 

A cumulus cloud towered toward the heavens. The top was spreading out with the the wispy cirrus, which were almost overhead. The lights of the nearby larger city lit the clouds; a dim, grayish tower reminding me of a black and white photo of the Pillars of Creation.  I'd seen such things before. Nocturnal thunderstorms will signify the clash of the cooler air of the land between the warmer, moist air from the Gulf. 

I thought I heard the low rumble of thunder; faint, almost imperceptible, and making me wonder if it was just the rumble of a large truck far away. I looked toward the cloud, didn't see any lightning, and was thinking my thought about a truck was correct. 

My wife, who was now awake, came onto the porch with our dog. I told her I thought I heard a low rumble of thunder, but didn't see any lightning. She soon thought she saw a flash, while I was looking away. It took a long time, but I thought I heard thunder again. Then, I saw a flash in the top of the cloud, and counted to 40 seconds before the low rumble was heard. Soon another flash lit the top of the cloud. Thirty five seconds later a louder rumble arrived. My wife went back inside, and our dog only waited a little longer before he wanted me to let him in. He doesn't like thunder, and I imagine his more sensitive ears told him it was time to flee what he fears.

I went and checked the radar. It showed a single thunderstorm moving in our direction. I heard a few more rumbles of thunder. It wasn't long before the radar showed the rain right on top of my locations, so I went back to the porch to watch.

There was nothing left of the storm, except a thick deck of cirrus clouds overhead. To the east, pale stars could be seen. To the northwest, Canis Major was clear, and almost setting. Light rain fell, which made the entire event surreal. 

If I had rolled over and went back to sleep, I would have missed the event. Such things are rare to observe, and I treasure seeing them. So, I'll stay up a little longer, look once again, and probably go back to bed, or not. I might stay up, wait until 4:00 am, and make a trip to town for donuts. 

...and more rain is forecast for the middle of the week. We don't need it. I poured 4 inches out of the rain gauge this morning. Part of the yard looks like a lake, and I have a feeling part of the road will flood.  

 Local forecasters are predicting the possibility of up to 4 inches of snow by Wednesday morning. Time will tell, but it's clear this morning and it looks like the temperature will bottom out at 22 degrees. We're supposed to reach around 40 degrees today, which may happen, but the low this morning is around 3 degrees lower than the forecast from yesterday, and we may not reach that temperature. Clouds will approach today, and if early, we might get colder, nastier conditions than forecast. Pipes are protected and the light is on in the well house.

As I looked around this morning, I observed a turkey that I've never seen before. It's a young male, and I have no idea which neighbor had an escapee, but if it's like the two peacocks that appeared last month, it will stay close and we'll have a new member of the local group of fowls that roam for food. They assimilate where there is the possibility of food, and I can't blame them for wanting to stay with freedom. 

Today is when the poo hits the fan. We'll see if the cold in D.C. keeps the protesting critters at bay, but I have a feeling some will make an effort to actually do the job they're being paid to perform. Regardless, if I was Trump, my speech would be short, I would make it in a secure area, and ignore the chattering from the peanut gallery. If he's true to his word, there will be Executive Orders appearing like flies at road-kill.

 We call it cold, but for many it's nothing. Temperatures are forecast to dip into the mid twenties at night starting Sunday night, and lows for the next few days afterwards about the same. Highs should be in the forties, which means freezing temperatures will only last for a few hours. 

So far this year, we've only had two nights where the temperature just made it down to 32 degrees. Most night have been in the forties, fifties and sixties. Daytime highs have been in the fifties up to the low eighties. It's been a blessing since heating, and cooling, don't require much electricity, which keeps the bill down. 

So far, this has been a mild, although wet Winter. The ground is saturated, and the mostly dreary weather hasn't allowed much drying. A wet Spring may bring some flooding we don't need. Time will tell, and regardless, there isn't anything I can do about it.

Last night, just before I went to bed, I thought I heard thunder. A peek at the radar showed a broken line of thunderstorm to the northwest, so I went to the porch to watch. 

It was quiet; really quiet. As I looked to the northwest, a flash of lightning lit the sky. I started counting, which allows determining the distance, if there are no other bolts. I was at sixty seconds when I heard the low rumble. This is a new record for me. Most storms have too much lightning to determine an accurate distance. At twelve miles, and with any background noise, I wouldn't have been able to hear it.

After a short time, more bolts occurred, but within thirty minutes, the storms dissipated. Radar only showed a line of light rain, which stayed above my location. The front stalled, but this morning, it was reinforced by a stronger front helped by Hurricane Helene's winds. This will bring us cool mornings, and bearable afternoons. It's a good start, and I'm looking forward to cooler temperatures.

I was curious about the term "dog days", so I looked it up. It's from the time of the Roman Empire, and was somewhere around the period of July 3 to August 11, which are the generally the hottest days of the year. That's when the star Sirius in the constellation Canis Major (big dog) would appear near sunrise. That was true back then, but due to the wobble of the Earth (precession) Sirius rises later in the year. This wobble, which is a 26,000 year cycle changes the time constellations rise, the stars that can be considered the north star, and pretty well destroys the wizardry of astrology. That, and destroys my original conception of how the dog days of summer were when dogs did as little as possible, laid under the porch, and waited for the cool of the evening to ease the brutal heat.

We've hovered officially around 100 degrees the last few days, but my thermometer not sanctioned by the weather wizards said we surpassed that mark when theirs said it was 98. Right, or wrong, the few degrees difference doesn't mean anything. It's supposed to be the same today, and tomorrow, but a front is supposed to lower the temperature a few degrees and lower the humidity. That will be good. Currently, with the high humidity, it's 81 degrees outside, and I doubt it goes down any further. A low 70's morning, with dry air, will be a pleasant relief.

It rained over the last week. It wasn't torrential, but every day was around an inch of rain, and the final tally was over five inches. The ground is saturated, and puddles are standing where I've never seen puddles last more than a few hours. We did manage to cut some grass in the high spots, but the rest will need days of drying. 

The humidity will be high for the next few days. That, and the mosquitoes are already finding enough stagnating water to breed prolifically. Evenings outside will be on the "no" list, and mornings will require the sun to burn off the dew before venturing out in the yard. Unlike last Summer, where the pond dropped five feet, this year has had plenty of rain in July, which is normally a dry month. How August pans out is to be seen, but I have a feeling the first cold front will be welcome; especially if it brings some cool, dry, windy days to dry everything. 

 After watching some tooth gnashing about the heat in some places in the United States, I started wondering how the data from places that never had the temperature measured in the past affects the overall data. I can see where urban islands corrupt averages, and how analog measurements from the past may be arbitrarily rounded, or misread, which leads to inaccurate averages. Maybe some expert reads my blog, knows a little about how added data sets affect averages, and end my pondering.

I've been watching what used to be called a low pressure wave cross the Gulf of Mexico. They've happened for a long time, and while some develop into tropical cyclones, others don't and usually bring beneficial rain to the Rio Grande Valley and the East Coast of Mexico. Now they're calling them PTC's, which stands for "Potential Tropical Cyclone".

The weather folks have been salivating for the last two days, speculating on torrential rains along the Gulf coast, warning of dangerous storm surges and filling their expensive time slots with what can only be called excited speculation. At this time, and I doubt it changes much, the Rio Grande Valley of Texas may get some heavy rain, but the rest of the state is only forecast as having a low chance of rain at the coast. If it continues as it has, that chance will drop further, and the weather folks that were giving updates at different coastal locations will be called back to the studio. 

One good thing is the rain is forecast to move up the Rio Grande, continue into New Mexico, and hopefully give those folks some needed rain. I'm sure they'll appreciate it; especially those near Ruidoso, New Mexico fighting a large forest fire. 

March usually brings the drastic changes of Spring. Bare trees sprout buds, flowers appear, winds from the Gulf bring a damp, cool breeze to our area, and the grass starts growing. The chances of a freeze are very low, and gardens are planted. 

The air is full of the scent of fresh cut grass; enjoyed with the low drone of lawnmowers in the background. Migrating birds appear, and disappear. Clear days show brilliant greens against the deep blue sky, as the trees start to fill with new leaves. Evenings on the porch are enjoyed with a hot cup of coffee, pleasant conversation, a few mosquitoes, and the eventual chill of the night approaching. The night sky shows the Winter constellations will soon be gone, and in the early hours, the Spring constellations fill the eastern sky. 

It's a grand time of year. I know it will soon be almost unbearably hot, but for now, I'll enjoy one of the best seasons of the year.

I was looking to the West this evening and spotted the top of a thunderstorm in the distance. Looking at the radar showed an isolated storm about 100 miles away. To the North, there were a few more about 200 miles away. The weather map shows a dry line, which to those that live in Tornado Alley it's the start of the sometimes severe thunderstorms that appear on the boundary between dry and moist air masses. Locally, we're not affected, but those in Central Texas can find an afternoon shattered by large hail, and maybe a tornado. That, and if it's dry, the lightning can spark grass fires in the areas that don't receive any rain. 

Usually, the dry line storms are more prevalent in the northern plains during the Summer. But right now,  they can appear all the way to the Mexican border during the right conditions. At night, they're spectacular to watch from a distance. Underneath one of those storms isn't so pleasant, unless you like being petrified by severe weather.

 During the year (especially when cold fronts threaten) we can get what I call "dicey" weather. When the storms are really bad, the thump when the first gust of wind hits the house, it leaves a few moments of panic. That, and when you can read a book by the lightning, or the rumble of thunder is like a twenty mile long string of loaded dump trucks passing by, there's no doubt the weather will be "dicey". The worst can bring power outages, and depending on how many trees fall on the lines, how long that lasts can be a crap shoot.

The weather folks (bless their hearts) predicted we had the possibility of some severe thunderstorms overnight. They weren't really really sure if they would reach our area (in fact they were betting they wouldn't) but wanted to keep the possibility open for their general CYA protocol requirements. This, to me, guarantees light sleeping, and a general feeling of anxiety. 

So, with my radar link handy on my phone, I watched television until late, watched a line of really strong storms develop, and decided to go to bed, since it would be hours before the storms arrived. The storms looked like they were losing their punch, and maybe the weather folks were right. 

I didn't sleep long. A low rumble of thunder woke me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Within a few moments, I could hear heavy rain falling, which indicated to me the weather was about to get dicey. A quick glance at my phone showed a line of storms with heavy rain, and the white in the middle of the storms made it clear there was either very heavy rain, or some severe weather about to arrive. 

I got up, fixed a cup of coffee, and went out on the porch. The heavy rain had stopped, and there was only an occasional bolt of lightning in the distance. Looking at the weather map, there was some severe weather about twenty miles to the south, and it was looking as though the line of storms in my area weren't severe, although we were about to get some really heavy rain. It soon arrived, passed in a few minutes and only left some steady rain. That was good, but according to the original forecast, there would be two rounds of storms, and the second would happen when the wind shift arrived. 

Now, it's still raining, and the radar is showing round two will arrive sometime in the next few hours. It looks like it will be either bad, really heavy rain, or both. I won't know until arrives. Hopefully the severe stuff will stay away, but I'm not counting on it. I'll go make another cup of coffee, cook some sausage, and make breakfast. If the power goes out, at least I had a good breakfast. 

It rained all morning; adding more water to areas that can't take any more.

A pernicious cut-off low pressure area in the upper atmosphere adds lift to warm, moist air, with a constant supply from the Gulf of Mexico. The meandering of this low led it through a slow passage across Texas, where it now sits near Corpus Christi.

The accumulation of rain is over a dozen inches in some areas, and the outfalls are full. Saturated ground, like a sponge in the bottom of a bucket, offers nothing for helping with the accumulation, and even a half inch of rain adds thousands of gallons of water to a few thousand square feet.

I'm not terribly affected by the rain, although construction work is halted; but many are facing a flood they never envisioned. Houses are under water; rain swollen creeks are claiming lives; and the rain will continue for at least the next twelve hours.

The low is forecast to move into the Gulf, and on to the East. At this time of the year, that can mean a tropical system that thrives on the warm waters of the Eastern Gulf of Mexico.

The coast will have much rain, and Florida may experience some torrential rains; if not more.