How Can You Look Away?

A lag in blogging is a sure sign of fair weather here in the Pacific Northwest. Toward the end of last week, when the nimbus clouds were in retreat, it was all I could do to work inside. I brought my books and laptop out onto the back deck, but they were no competition for what was going on upstairs:

Beyond Words and Pronunciation

      

Over the past few weeks, several alert cloudspotters have sent me newspaper clippings and website links to images of the eruption cloud from the Eyjafjallajokull volcano, aka the "Iceland volcano."  To see thirty-five breathtaking photographs published in a round-up by the The Boston Globe, click The Big Picture.

These pictures paint a thousand words (mostly superlatives) for this mid-April event that sent thick clouds of ash over Europe. Though air traffic was halted for several days, writer Seth Stevenson was inspired to write about the joys of slow travel in Escape from the Jet Age in the New York Times. Even these clouds have a silver lining.

For fun: How to Pronounce "Eyjafjallajokull"

Noticing What You See

   A year ago, I grabbed by Exact-o knife and cut out a paragraph from the New York Times' Sunday "Diagnosis" column and taped it into the front of my Moleskine notebooks. This regular feature in the Sunday paper is about medical diagnosis, but also about paying attention, piecing together clues, and solving mysteries.
    The writer of the May 10 article, Dr. Lisa Sanders, tells of the attempts of dozens of medical specialists to diagnose the a 51-year-old patient who complained for 15 years of a confounding set of health problems: sleeplessness, high blood pressure, constant hunger, high cholesterol, allergies, weak bones, acne, teeth that went askew. The patient exercised regularly, ate a healthful diet, and took medicines to control his allergies, blood pressure, acne, and to help his weak bones. He even got fitted for braces to repair his bite. Still, he wasn't able to sleep more than 90 minutes at time. His long-time primary care doctor referred him to a sleep specialist.
   During the patient's first meeting, the specialist didn't take notes or focus on the patient's chart. "He simply asked questions, listened to the patient, and observed." He was struck by the patient's unusually large face, hands, and feet and the broadness of his lower jaw and chin. He suspected acromegaly, a chronic metabolic disorder caused by a tumor on the pituitary gland (which regulates growth hormones). Acromegaly also causes swelling of bones and the soft tissue--in this case, around the nose and mouth. The patient's primary care doctor didn't buy it at first, but slowly came around after she reviewed all the patient's symptoms. The patient had surgery which instantly resulted in easier breathing, lowered blood pressure, end of sleep apnea, and a drop in the production of growth hormones, which were were responsible for an overproduction of insulin, acne, a short-circuited REM sleep. His face, hands, and feet shrank significantly.
   Why am I writing about acromegaly? Because I love the New York Times. Because one minute you're reading about a guy with oversized hands and the next minute you discover that Lisa Sanders is an Arthur Conan Doyle fan and has this to say about the patient's primary care doctor...and you, the reader: 

"The diagnosis was staring her in the face for years, but she did not see it. Psychologists call this inattention blindness -- instances when we don't see something because it's not what we are expecting to see; it's not what we are looking for. Sherlock Holmes had a somewhat different description. 'I have trained myself to notice what I see,' Holmes says."

And because I am trying to do the same with clouds. It's harder than you might think.

April Roars In

  Yesterday afternoon the clouds out-did themselves with the help of the high winds and setting sun. I had been sitting inside most of the afternoon, but around 6 p.m. noticed the light coming in looked "wierd." My front yard was bright with sun, but there were dark, ominous looking clouds in the sky to the east. I stepped out my front door and did my "Holy Cumulonimbus Sky Monster, Batman! yelp, grabbed the car keys and camera and zipped over to an open field near my house to get the big view (above and below).

  The clouds--cumulus congestus and cumulonimbus with anvils--are the result of a dramtic clashing of cold air aloft and sun-warmed air down below. The warm, moist (dare I say "spring" air) created powerful convection and the beautiful display of cumulus clouds.  As they rose toward the bottom of the stratosphere, they "flattened out" and swept horizontally by the high winds.

   University of Washington meteorologist Cliff Mass also took note of the drama and offers a more scientific explanation, some interesting satellite images, and a BIG storm warning on his excellent blog: Cliff Notes   

This photo shows the low cumulonimbus clouds, turrets, and the enormous anvil in the southern sky around 6 p.m.  I just couldn't take my eyes off it as it moved across the sky. I felt I was watching a tidal wave in the form of a cloud.

This close-up of the anvil shows a wispy "curtain" of clouds, which reminded me of a whale's baleen. I think it is actually rain or hail--but I'm not sure. I am sure it's not baleen.