Looking For Detachment

Yesterday, when out hiking in nearby Water Canyon (before the Super Bowl), MOH and I slowly (at least for me) made our way up a variably steep, grassy to rocky hillside until we came to a large rib of quartzite. While standing there admiring the many geological and other features of the rib (including quartz veins, fractures and joints, bright greenish yellow lichen patches, and packrat middens), I noticed that a nice circle (22° halo) had formed around the sun. I moved into position behind the towering quartzite rib and shot a picture or two. The best one (which is enhanced to match the way it looked on the camera, which is the way it looked IRL except for the high contrast or excessive darkness of the foreground, where my eyes could see better than the camera) is shown above. You can also see just a bit of the bright greenish yellow lichen on the quartzite, barely shining through the camera-darkened foreground.
The lichen, also with a more common dark gray to black or dark brown variety and a pale green variety, can be seen better in this photo showing the same quartzite outcrop, although here I've moved over a little to the right to center the photo on a tall, narrow cleft formed along a couple parallel fractures or joints, possibly a small fault zone.
I immediately walked into the fracture so I could turn around and take this picture looking back to the north. The white bands in the center of the brownish quartzite, slanting shallowly to moderately to the right, are several of a complicated quartz vein set that are no doubt saying something about the stress regime during the time of their formation.

I got to thinking after taking another looking at my arc photos, that this shot may show a weak tangent arc above the also weak 22 degree halo around the sun.

Possible tangent arc with circumzenithal arc above, also showing left sundog and weak 22 degree halo.

Photos were enhanced as described in my circumzenithal arc post; lower photo is two photos stitched together. Better sundogs and halo can be seen in the circumzenithal post.

Driving back from work the other day, Sunday October 28 to be precise, I noticed a bright sundog on the right side of the sun as we came around the corner at Button Point. I looked straight overhead, hoping to see a Kern arc, and there was the so-called circumzenithal arc, which does not make a complete circle around the zenith. When I got home, I ran in, grabbed my camera, took one quick shot of a fairly faded arc before the batteries died and before the arc faded almost completely in fickle cirrus clouds. After changing the batteries, and after the arc came back a couple minutes later, I took the above photo, where the arc is still faint.

By the time I took this picture, two sundogs had formed on opposite sides of the sun (the right one is not visible behind a building to the right; the left one is the bright, washed out spot on the left), and a nice halo had started to develop.

Unenhanced circumzenithal arc looking straight up.

I repeatedly looked straight overhead to see if the rare Kern arc, which completely circles the zenith, would develop. One never did.

Circumzenithal arc looking straight up, somewhat enhanced.

A view of just the circumzenithal arc.

A zoomed in view of the same arc, taken a moment later.

The halo around the sun continued to develop.

Halo mimics the shape of the tree.

Sundog to the left of the sun.

The sun was fairly low in the sky between 4:32 and 4:47 pm PST when I took these photos; it was probably between 10 and 15 degrees above the horizon, a little lower than the ideal 22 degrees.

The following day, I ran outside with my Brunton at about 4:50 pm to measure the sun angle, which was at 10 degrees above the horizon. The days are getting shorter by only 1 to 2 minutes each day, with minimal time difference in sunset between the two days in question, so the sun was probably at 10 degrees or slightly higher.

In fact, photos in which the ground isn't cropped out show that the height of the sun above the horizon is less than half of the 22 degree halo around the sun, although some distortion by the camera cannot be ruled out.

All photos except the one described as unenhanced, were enhanced by increasing color saturation and contrast, and by adjusting the brightness up or down as needed. They were then exported to a smaller size (1000px long dimension). After export, they were minimally sharpened to diminish blurriness imparted during export.

The first two photos both consist of two photos that were stitched together and cropped prior to enhancement, export, and sharpening. My semi-wide angle lens won't show a circumzenithal arc and the lower part of the sky in one shot.

Some classic wave clouds, or lenticulars, from the front that went through a couple days ago.

The wave clouds in this photo indicate that winds aloft are blowing swiftly to the east (left). Note the iridescence in the brightest and thinnest parts of the clouds in the upper left. Also note the low rotor clouds below the wave, dark and scud-like, especially the one on the right, which may show hints of the rotation typical of these clouds, and which shows a classic ragged form. When conditions are right—when the wave is strong and the rotor is hitting the ground—winds on the ground will move opposite to the winds aloft, typically back to the west in Nevada (right in the photo). These "backwards" ground winds can be strong, erratic, and turbulent, and can cause unexpected damage to street signs and the like. In Nevada, when the rotor is blowing, it's a good idea to keep an eye out for flying sheet metal.

Lenticulars—which are sometimes described as unique, or even rare—are fairly common in Nevada, in the lee of the Sierra Nevada and the many mountain ranges of the Basin and Range.

Understanding lenticular clouds and mountains waves

Lenticular cloud with irisation (cloud iridescence) at Atmospheric Optics

Lenticular clouds at APOD

Things I've been meaning to get to but haven't:

• Discovery of the flotation method.


• Glacial silt in turquoise blue water.


• More about the Earth's shadow & Belt of Venus.

And surely there are others.

On the way over to Great Basin National Park last week, I grabbed this quick photo of the alpenglow hitting the west side of Wheeler Peak (13,063 feet ASL), partly because the lower line of the pinkish band was hitting the mountain at just about tree line. The pinkish band is sometimes known as the Belt of Venus or antitwilight arch, at least when it is seen in the sky, and the dark purplish blue area below the alpenglow is the Earth's shadow on the mountain. It is sometimes called the dark segment, at least when seen in sky.

If you happen to be standing on a mountain when this pinkish phenomenon is visible to those to the west of you, you will be standing in the pinkish, dying light of the sun, just before it goes below your western horizon (presuming you aren't in Alaska or somewhere very far north or very far south, where the sun doesn't always set in the west, but can set in the north or south, or not set at all). As the pinkish, last light of the sun leaves you on your mountain perch, the terminator will come upon you, you'll be in the twilight zone, and then you will pass into the night (all while standing still).
In this grainier enlargement of the same photo, you can see that the pinkish alpenglow isn't exactly congruent with tree line in all places.
We drove on, to find and set up camp in the dark, at about 9800 feet on the other side of that same mountain.

Recent Great Basin N.P. Blogospherics:
A Park without it's Namesake at Geotripper
We Head Underground in the Great Basin at Geotripper
Great Basin National Park at Nature's Blog
My Backyard - Great Basin NP at WATCH FOR ROCKS

Two years ago today, on a Saturday, I was in downtown Anchorage for the ceremonial start of the Iditarod, and this sun halo (22° halo) and associated sun dog (parhelion) was visible to the east over the Chugach Mountains.
As for this year, the ceremonial start was March 5th, and the official re-start in Willow was yesterday, March 6th. The race is now underway; current standings can be accessed here.

I love Alaska in the winter, at least in short doses, though I didn't make it up there this year.

A more recent (and more colorful) sun dog at EXPLICITLY UNEXPLICIT.

Just a quick photo grab of something seen in the field the other day. Reminds me of Snell's Law - and for all those who doubt it [looking at you, long-ago engineer in Philosophy of Science class], anisotropic media are far more common in the mineral world (and nature in general?) than isotropic media.

Northern Lights is a watercolor painting I did a few years back, inspired by the atmospheric phenomenon of that name. The phenomenon is more properly called aurora, polar aurora, aurora borealis in the northern hemisphere (northern lights), and aurora australis in the southern hemisphere (southern lights). I've never seen any as colorful as the lights in my painting, and green without red is usually more common. I've seen the northern lights as far south Reno and Virginia City, Nevada, and have seen them in Alaska.

Aurora at Wikipedia - some colorful, presumably public domain photos.
Aurora FAQs at UAF's Geophysical Institute.
Aurora on Worldbook @ NASA
Aurora images at NASA
Aurora over Idaho: APOD 18Dec2006 - colorful red and green aurora, a copyrighted photo.

Copyright © 2010 Looking for Detachment.
Original watercolor Copyright © 2002.
All Rights Reserved.

As Kim noted about a week ago, there have been some hints and threats of an ending field season going around, here and there in the west.
My first clue that the field season was ending, besides seeds falling everywhere, was some bright shiny frost I saw while driving to work one morning. I'm not sure it was the first frost, you understand, but it was a definitely photogenic frost.
Photogenic frost - on grass 'neath juniper tree - light and shade combined.
Later in the day, clouds moved in, making it difficult to tell one gray rock from another. A weak sun column (or sun pillar) formed in the west in the gray sky.

I didn't really plan to start a meme this morning, but apparently some people jumped on - and on, with Ron Schott deciding that this 'meme' actually started sometime last year (he says it's Kim's Fault)! I did post A Rainbow in the Field Area earlier this month (or whenever), but feeling rather challenged by this meme-ish idea, which I didn't intend to start, I thought I'd better post a rainbow from the field area that goes with my last post of One Year Ago Today! (I hope I didn't link to myself too many times, here - just trying to pass the links around and record the geologic history of this thing.)

Memes are fun, but Eric says that silver and garlic will keep them away. I always cross my fingers (from two hands) in the form of a cross, and that works for me. See you tomorrow!

Ha! I mentioned one food source - garlic - in case anyone is actually doing the October Accretionary Wedge!!

These are photos from last year (as you might have guessed from the post title) - a full-sky double rainbow over our little house in eastern Nevada. The afternoon had been cloudy with rain, and I came back from work to find a dark sky and this wonderful, long-lasting rainbow. The sky was a strange color, kind of yellowish gray - it reminded me of a color I remember mostly from the East Coast, a color that during thunderstorms can precede tornadoes, although it often doesn't.

Prior to taking off on yesterday's "just another road trip" trip, MOH and I went over to our newly rented storage unit, on the outskirts of the little town we stay in while working, he on his cycle and me in his Prius. Our storage unit is primarily for stashing the cycle during the winter, partly so we can have a bit more room in our gravel driveway. We will also be able to store a few other things there: our tiny rental is getting full, what with us bringing out winter stuff, then summer stuff, then camping stuff, then this-and-that stuff, and... Right now, it's mostly empty, though.
On the road we saw a few dust devils...
...and a couple lizards. This one was scampering around on some white tuff, either a base-surge tuff or an air-fall tuff, not that the photo shows anything particularly diagnostic, or typical, of either type of tuff. (Sorry, I just had to try for T-type alliteration, there.)
We duly stopped at a few faults, one barely shown across the road beyond the Prius, our erstwhile field vehicle.
It's hunting season out in the deserts, steppes, and mountains of central Nevada, and it's also that wood-cutting time of year. Notice how I neatly erased the license-plate number from the wood-hauling truck
We saw a nice sundog as we were approaching Reno. This one was in the sundog position on the right side of the sun, and showed good rainbow-like colors. A circle around the sun never developed, but a second sun dog vaguely showed up in the sundog position to the left of the sun. I looked hard for a Kern arc straight overhead, but didn't see one. I saw one once at Pyramid Lake. The sun was almost down, and straight overhead there was a circular rainbow, which is very rarely seen and even more uncommonly photographed. I had no idea at the time that such a thing could even exist, but there it was. I'd like to see another one someday.
The sunset while driving through and around Reno was wonderful and brightly colored...
...including this strange oval sky "hole." (That's not a technical term!)
We stopped at B+N, bought a few books, had some coffees, and bought some 16 oz bags of coffee at much better prices than we usually see in small-town Nevada.
After stopping on the road for some after-dark gas, we finally made it to our home at the lake. The air was cool - exactly 46 degrees F according to the Prius temp sensor - and it was nicely damp compared to the dry air from whence we'd just come. The past-full moon was up and shining through thin, high clouds, and haze from woodsmoke was hanging over the ground.

Today is Earth Day, and so I'm giving you some pictures of the rising sun and an early-morning sun dog -- the atmosphere and atmospheric phenomena are part of the earth and part of our everyday experience.

I remember the excitement and hoopla that attended the first Earth Day back in 1970, when I was still in high school. People were optimistic about what they could do, and yet much pessimism was focused on the way things were. I'd like to remind everyone that a lot of good has been accomplished since those days: rivers on the east coast are much cleaner, and you can see the mountains that surround L.A., which was rare in the early 1970's. The air we breathe today is cleaner in many places than it was on the first Earth Day in 1970. Look up. Enjoy the view.

I occasionally participate in Earth Day clean-up programs, but what I really have enjoyed over the years is participating in Earth Science Week field trips - field trips which are designed to introduce geology to the general public, including children of all ages. These field trips are run every year by the Nevada Bureau of Mines and Geology I think in conjunction with the Geological Society of Nevada). Here is an example of an Earth Science Week field trip program.

I like what Julian has suggested about remembering and honoring the brown places, because I have been a desert person for several decades. And I like Andrew's suggestion to read science fiction in order to become familiar with envisioning alternative futures.

Andrew also summaries several other good Accretionary Wedge #8 posts.

Accretionary Wedge #8: Earth Day the Geologists' Way