Linear Clouds

Linear clouds—that sounds like a jazz album.

Icicles: Winter Is Coming

I saw these icicles over the weekend.  They are a reminder that winter is coming, or, if you, like me, go by meteorological winter, that winter is already here.  

“Winter is coming” is the catchphrase from the popular television series Game of Thrones.  I have never actually seen this show, despite the fact that it looks like the sort of thing that I would like.  Maybe one day I will take the time to watch it all.  Until then, I must rely on the basic knowledge that the characters in Game of Thrones live in an epic quasi-Medieval fantasy world, doing epic quasi-Medieval fantasy things, and occasionally reminding each other that winter is coming.  

For example:

[Somebody is fighting a dragon.]

[They pause.]

Somebody: Winter is coming.

Dragon: Yes, winter is coming.

[They resume fighting.]

Fog

When I was young, there was fog.  I remember going into school in the morning when the fog was so thick that I couldn't even see the athletic fields from the front of the school.  But after that I went years without seeing any fog.  I wondered if there hadn't been any fog during my adult life, or if it was a matter of fog being limited to the early morning, and my not getting up early enough any more.  

I did see some fog one morning a few weeks ago.  And there has been a lot of fog in the weather forecast recently, including predictions of "zero visibility" for some areas. I have never been in conditions of zero visibility, but I would like to be.  I imagine, though, that zero visibility can be simulated by standing very close to a wall, and staring directly at the wall.  

I also like to imagine fog so deep and thick and enduring that the government announces that the only way to deal with it is stay inside and sleep for days on end. 

I Am Envious of New England

I am envious of eastern New England, which this week experienced a huge snow storm.  As usual, the Washington area, where I am, received under an inch.  

I would like the Washington area to have a giant blizzard.

I would also like the Washington area to have a giant lizard. 

But the giant lizard should wait for the summer, because I wouldn't want the lizard to get too cold.  

Mosquito Hopes and Theories Are Dashed

The Asian Tiger Mosquito (Aedes albopictus) is an introduced species of day-biting mosquito which has been making summers unbearable in parts of the Washington area for the last fifteen years or so.  The adults die off during the winter in temperate climates; populations survive via eggs.  

   Much of the country experienced an abnormally cold winter in 2014, which, I thought, might have had an effect on this obnoxious species. A recent study discovered that Aedes albopictus eggs will suffer 100% mortality after being exposed to temperature of 10° F (-12° C) for four hours, or 5° F (-15° C) for one hour.  On January 7, the low temperature at Reagan National Airport was 6° F; on this day the temperature may possibly have met the condition of four hours at 10° F or lower.  For most of the spring I held out hope that the cold might have locally eliminated the Asian Tiger Mosquito (until it could recolonize from warmer areas, which one hopes would take a few years).

   But then on May 21, I received the first Asian Tiger Mosquito bite of the year.  Asian Tiger Mosquitoes are still here, bringing another summer of misery.  I assume that ultimately it was a problem of microclimate. Members of the species lay their eggs in holes in trees and other cavities where rainwater accumulates.  These cavities presumably created sheltered environments in which the temperature was significantly warmer than that of the surrounding air.  

Snow Thoughts

As I noted in my last post, I love snow.  The Washington area got some snow yesterday, even though it's March, and it's time to let the snow go, and yield the world to the frogs and the flowers.  The predicted accumulation was 6 to 10 inches, but where I am there was only 4 1/2 inches.  As I have probably written before, over the course of a life spent mostly in northern Virginia, I have seen countless days when there was less snow than predicted, but I can't recall a single snowfall that was bigger than predicted.  

A few weeks ago, I went into the District on a Saturday afternoon on the Metro.  It was supposed to snow that afternoon, but there was no snow.  I could only think how much better it would have been if it had been snowing.  

Since then, I have been thinking how fun it would be to have to make my way home from DC at the beginning of a huge snowstorm, a storm that would shut the city down for days. At my journey's start, there would already be six inches of snow on the ground, with another foot of snow expected over the next 24 hours.  I would catch the last Metro train out to the suburbs, just before the Metro shut down completely, then walk home through deserted streets, with snowfall so thick that I could barely see where I was going.  It would be a really awesome adventure, and afterwards it would feel really good to relax and have a nice snack.  

(Some of the same sentiments may have shown up in my Christmas story from last year.)

Hibernation

I love snow.  And I don't particularly mind cold weather, as long as I'm experiencing it in the later part of the day.  But I hate having to get up early in cold weather to go to work.  I'm pretty miserable any time that I have to get up before noon. Getting up when it's before noon and below freezing is almost intolerable to me. That is why I sometimes think that it would be nice if humans were to hibernate through the winter.  

In my plan, the natural period of human hibernation would be December, January, and February.  We would, however, force ourselves to stay awake through December, so as not to miss the holidays.  We would continue to work for the first three weeks of December, then close down business for the year, and relax and enjoy Christmas.  And we would celebrate New Year's Eve as normal.  But instead of getting up on January 1, we would stay in bed until some time at the end of February or the beginning of March.  

As I said at the beginning of the post, though, I do love snow.  Here is the one problem with my hibernation plan—we would miss out on the snows of January and February. And so perhaps we would not sleep solidly for two months, but instead wake up enough to sit drowsily by the window and enjoy the beauty of the falling flakes.  

Our Abnormal Halloween Season

  Much has happened in the past week that feels catastrophic, if not outright apocalyptic: Hurricane Sandy, the lead-up to the presidential election, the sale of the Star Wars franchise to Disney . . .  In a recent blog post, I said that I wanted something cool to happen for Halloween.  Instead, a hurricane merged with a cold front to form a powerful hybrid storm that devastated the northeastern coastline and left millions without power.  It makes me want to shout "Uncool!", but that would leave me feeling too much like Joey from Friends.  

(By the way, in my last blog post, I used the redundant phrase "unexpected surprise", which was due to sloppy editing resulting from me trying to get the post up before the hurricane hit.)

In light of the destruction caused by Hurricane Sandy, Governor Chris Christie of New Jersey issued an executive order postponing Halloween in his state until today.  I  am surprised that a governor or any other elected official would have the power to reschedule Halloween.  I would think that Halloween would be controlled by some special Halloween Committee, at least three members of which would be required by law to have pumpkins for heads.  

Another, perhaps final, Halloween observation is that today I saw that a lot of people have left the Halloween decorations up on the outside of their houses, even though it is almost a week after Halloween.  Was this practice common in the past, but I never noticed?  Or is it part of a recent societal trend?  Or is there a specific desire this year to extend the Halloween season longer than usual to make up for Halloween being overshadowed by the hurricane?

The Blizzards of 2010

The Washington area has experienced two abnormally large snow storms in the past week. The official Reagan National Airport totals were 18 inches for the first storm, and 10 inches for the second. Measurements at my locale yielded a few inches more for the first, and significantly less for the second.

Like many other people, I kept track of the snow by watching Channel 4 news, featuring superstar weatherman Bob Ryan. His work will be recognized in a ceremony at the White House later this month in which he will be promoted to Blizzard Wizard—the highest rank bestowable on a civilian meteorologist in the United States.

Another distinctive feature of Channel 4 snow coverage is the Pat Collins man-on-the-street report. Narration for a typical Pat Collins segment runs something like this:

"Public transit is shut down. Cars are stranded in the middle of the street. People are throwing snowballs everywhere. It's anarchy in the UK. But I'm not in the UK. Jim, Doreen . . . [ominously] I'm in Bethesda."