Cliff Mass Uses the B Word

Never never never describe the weather as boring.

  I have to take issue with Cliff Mass's recent blog post entitled "Boring with a Hint of La Nina."
  Mass, a many of you know, is a professor of meteorology in University of Washington's Department of Atmospheric Sciences, author of The Weather of the Pacific Northwest, regular guest on KPLU public radio,  and enthusiastic blogger on local weather phenomenon.
   Mass's blog included a snapshot of this week's weather from the National Weather Service--each day represented by a little postage stamp illustrations of clouds, sun, and rain in varying proportions. Mass summed it up this way: "Some clouds, some sun, a few light showers, temps reaching the 50s and dropping into the mid to lower 40s.  Enough to drive a meteorologist mad."
   Boring? Boring?! Since when was the weather in the Pacific Northwest "boring?"
   Will only the Perfect Sturm und Drang excite our local meteorologists?
   I think we have a jaded meteorologist on our hands, folks. Just look at what beautiful weather I have seen in the past week:  

Impressionistic sunrise and fog along the Deschutes River.

An hour later, these fleeting cirrocumulus lacunosus appeared.

Several layers of clouds make a dramatic, aka "partly cloudy," skyscape.

A gorgeous mix of stratocumulus and altocumulus clouds. Probably not too exciting on a radar screen, though.

Well, okay, I have to admit these clouds are a teensy bit not-too exciting. But boring? No. It's cirrostratus just ahead of the rain. The Perfect Norm.

Still Life with Fog

   I went outside Friday morning to watch the magical progression of this dense fog. I lingered, I loitered, I stood in the wet grass, I watched the geese, I tried to be still. At one point the only sound I heard was the dripping of the fog onto the bigleaf maple leaves. The fog--ground-level stratus clouds--lifted over a period of three hours. I watched them rise into the blue sky and transform themselves into cumulus clouds.

   I passed a man on the bike trail, dressed head-to-toe in camouflage. He was walking his small collie. He said, "Isn't this beautiful? You could say that you are walking in a cloud." I agreed and said I would.

   The fields were full of restless geese, rising in a panic, honking their way across the gray sky.

   

 Wouldn't this be something to surf?

And here, the fog rising and dissipating in the sun-warmed air. What a morning!

Stratus Magic

I was out early walking the dog one recent Saturday morning when the overnight temp had dipped into the 40s. I didn't realize I needed gloves and a hat, so I had to walk briskly to keep warm, breathing on my hands which were turning red and numb by the minute. Looks like my body was not the only one losing heat. Here, a tiny lake behind the Lacey Community Center was cloaked in steam fog (the lowest, but not lowliest of the clouds) created when the cool air meets the relatively warm water.

I stopped, fumbled with the camera to get a few shots of the drama, then marched the dog around the field behind the lake. Luckily the dog stopped every six feet to mark "his" territory, allowing me to look around. The sturdy vines of the Himalayan blackberry bushes served a major supporting role for dozens of spide webs. I imagine the fog   passed over each thread of the webs in the night, forming droplets of water that then froze into delicate ice crystals.