Showing posts with label climate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climate. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2025

A Time When Dogs Seek Shade

 

Orion the Hunter



Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At this time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.




First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword. Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.


Sirius the Dog Star


In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. To the ancient Greeks the rising of these stars with the sun signaled the peak of summer heat when even dogs chose not to leave shade. 
They came to call this time of year hemerai kynades, a phrase that translates directly to "dog days." We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius rising from the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.




While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2023 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise. So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!



Saturday, December 21, 2024

It's Old Man Winter's Favorite Season


Today is the first day of Winter and the shortest day - less than twelve hours of sunshine -  of the year in the Northern hemispere That event as well as the coot evening temperatures will be more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. 

In Henry Purcell's 1671 semi-opera, King Arthur, the spirit of Winter is depicted as Cold Genius, a frozen old man who much prefers dormancy under snowdrifts to an invitation to celebrate the coming of Spring.




What power art thou Who from below Hast made me rise Unwillingly and slow From beds of everlasting snow See'st thou not how stiff And wondrous old Far unfit to bear the bitter cold I can scarcely move Or draw my breath I can scarcely move Or draw my breath Let me, let me, Let me freeze again Let me, let me Freeze again to death Let me, let me, let me Freeze again to death...


Much of the nation won't have long to wait Cold Genius's favoite weather. Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next three months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with today's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange for over 4500 years. That's long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.





The winter solstice is also know as Midwinter is some circles. Here is unquestionably the song of the day, In the Bleak Midwinter, a perfect blend of nature and the "coming of the light" in the celebration of the birth of Jesus.




In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.


Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.


Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk,
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.


Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air -
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.


What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can, I give Him -
Give my heart.


For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Newgrange aerial photo, gaia.com
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org

Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Willis Carrier: His Invention Touches Almost Every Aspect Of Our Lives


One of the most significant books in the historiography of the South, Ulrich Bonnell Phillips's Life and Labor in the Old South, begins with these words:

Let us begin by discussing the weather for that has been the chief agency in making the South distinctive. . . . The summers are not merely long but bakingly hot, with temperatures ranging rather steadily in the eighties and nineties of the Fahrenheit scale.

The early 20th century one-story Southern home, with its high-roof, wrap-around porch, and traditional "dog trot" breezeway, is a vernacular response to that bakingly hot summer. Homes of this type can still be found throughout the South. In fact contemporary construction in the region often incorporates its features in vestigial form. But what has made the South so popular these days? I believe in particular the subtropical climate remains the most powerful draw. The New South's social and political climates also contribute to the demographic shift. Still, Southerners must deal with the heat and humidity as do others impacted by urbanization, commercialism, and industrialization. Today that means most the United States and its inhabitants.  And that brings us to the significance of this week in the history of American invention and its application and impact in our lives.




On November 26, 1876, a son, Willis H. Carrier, was born into an old New England family. In 1902, Carrier developed an electrical system of conditioning air in a stiflingly hot and humid Brooklyn printing plant. The new environment ensured stability in the paper and the perfect alignment of four-color printing. It was soon a huge success in several industries that demanded such requirements. By the 1920s, air conditioning became popular in retail trade and entertainment, especially the movie theater. It was a small jump from commercial systems to home systems, and by the 1930s, air conditioning began a slow but steady increase in usage until the post World War II era when it boomed. In two generations, Carrier's application had impacted almost every facet of American life and spread quickly throughout the world in the second half of the century

From an environmental perspective, air conditioning made the South livable year round. One could work hard outside on a mid-summer Georgia day and find comfort in an air conditioned break at work and a cool, comfortable supper and evening at home. Today, we take this comfort for granted across the nation giving it attention only when it's time to change the filter or the compressor dies.


Carrier posing with a 1920 model chiller


Especially if you call the South "home," work in a highrise office or on your family farm, take a moment today to thank Willis for his contribution. It's an invention you're going to appreciate so very much in 2025 when that heat begins its sure progress to "bakingly" unbearable levels in the summer. 

For more information on the impact of air conditioning on the American experience check out this site:

http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/keepin-it-cool-how-the-air-conditioner-made-modern-america/241892/


Tuesday, August 27, 2024

Krakatoa Then, Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal Now

 

The Scream                     Edvard Munch 1893


Imagine waking up on this fine Tuesday morning to hear that a gigantic magnetic storm will disrupt much of the planet's electronics and communication networks in two days. This event simply isn't going to break up your digital reception of Saturday's big game  - Go Dawgs. It's going to require months of reconstruction - software and hardware - on power grids, communication systems and circuit boards on land, sea, air, and in space. I raise this issue not to alarm but to use coronal mass ejection (CME) and similar electromagnetic pulse (EMP) events as modern-day examples of climate issues that need to compete with the longer term phenomenon of global climate change. Furthermore, I am not about to deny or denigrate the existence and significance of global warming and cooling. It happens and I have no issue with mitigation and preparation for the consequences. On the other hand, sometimes our priorities don't seem to match the serious short-term and potentially catastrophic threats we face. Scientists and engineers already know of an event in 1859 that, had it occurred this morning in our high tech electronic world, would have caused widespread threats to social, political, and economic systems worldwide.

Why raise the issue today? This day marks the 141st anniversary of the massive volcanic explosion of the Indonesian island known as Krokatoa. The event killed over 36,000 people, sent a measurable shock wave around the world seven times and produced the loudest noise heard in recorded history, a noise heard in Perth, Australia, more than 2800 miles from the island. Geophysical impacts included a decline of over 2 degrees in the planet's average global temperatures and more than a decade of memorable atmospheric events including, vivid sunsets, lavender suns, and noctilucent clouds.

This was an astounding event in earth history and a modern-day lesson in the fragile nature of the planet and its inhabitants. As I've said before, nature in all her beauty can be a cruel mother. In light of the recent events like Mount St. Helens, record setting earthquakes, earth-grazing fireballs, and meteors, it's also a lesson that radical global climate change could occur tomorrow as well as a century from now. Granted, the sciences in question are little more than 150 years old but we have come a long way in understanding, yet we know there are some events beyond knowledge and control.


This is a timely anniversary given that an underwater volcano (Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal) in Tonga, a Pacific island nation, erupted in January 2022 and thrust as much as 160 million tons of water vapor into the stratosphere. Climatologists soon determined this instantaneous 5% increase in water vapor could likely increase global temperatures for some years to come. For climate scientists this is a unique event as it is the first eruption of its kind that can be effectively measured and analyzed. In other words there is no forecast model for the Tonga volcano. All science can do is observe, provide some analysis, and issue essentially speculative forecasts on the impacts of the event. If this year's high temperatures - it's called weather - tell us anything it's that climate scientists seem to be on to something.

Do keep the faith, my friends. There's a really good probability for sunrise tomorrow. The chances for more tomorrows are equally high because some of our finest earth and space scientists study and stand watch for these threats, short-term and long-term. I can't imagine a more exciting career than one exploring the far reaches of the planet and its journey in the universe.

In case you're wondering: Edvard Muunch painted four versions of The Scream of Nature over a seventeen year period beginning in 1893. Some experts believe his depiction of the vivid orange-red sky came from his observations of similar sunsets caused by the explosion of Krakatoa a decade earlier. I wonder how many artists will be incorporating the effects of Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal on our environment over the next few decades.





Sources


Text:
The Tonga Volcano Shook the World: It May Also Affect the Climate, The New York Times, September 22, 2022

Thursday, July 18, 2024

The Hunter Rises From The Sea


Orion the Hunter


Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At this time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.




First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword. Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.


Sirius the Dog Star


In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius rising from the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.




While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2023 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise. So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!






Thursday, December 21, 2023

Winter Solstice 2023


In a few hours winter arrives in Atlanta. That event as well as the coot evening temperatures will be more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. Much of the nation won't have long to wait for that weather. Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next three months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with today's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange for over 4500 years. That's long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.






The winter solstice is also know as Midwinter is some circles. Here is unquestionably the song of the day, In the Bleak Midwinter, a perfect blend of nature and the "coming of the light" in the celebration of the birth of Jesus.





In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk,
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air -
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can, I give Him -
Give my heart.



For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Newgrange aerial photo, gaia.com
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Thank You, Mr. Carrier



One of the most significant books in the historiography of the South, Ulrich Bonnell Phillips's Life and Labor in the Old South, begins with these words:

Let us begin by discussing the weather for that has been the chief agency in making the South distinctive. . . . The summers are not merely long but bakingly hot, with temperatures ranging rather steadily in the eighties and nineties of the Fahrenheit scale.

The early 20th century one-story Southern home, with its high-roof, wrap-around porch, and traditional "dog trot" breezeway, is a vernacular response to that bakingly hot summer. Homes of this type can still be found throughout the South. In fact contemporary construction in the region often incorporates its features in vestigial form. But what has made the South so popular these days? I believe in particular the subtropical climate remains the most powerful draw. The New South's social and political climates also contribute to the demographic shift. Still, Southerners must deal with the heat. And that brings us to the significance of this week in the history of American invention and its application and impact in our lives.




On November 26, 1876, a son, Willis H. Carrier, was born into an old New England family. In 1902, Carrier developed an electrical system of conditioning air in a stiflingly hot and humid Brooklyn printing plant. The new environment ensured stability in the paper and the perfect alignment of four-color printing. It was soon a huge success in several industries that demanded such requirements. By the 1920s, air conditioning became popular in retail trade and entertainment, especially the movie theater. It was a small jump from commercial systems to home systems, and by the 1930s, air conditioning began a slow but steady increase in usage until the post World War II era when it boomed. In two generations, Carrier's application had impacted almost every facet of American life and spread quickly throughout the world in the second half of the century

From an environmental perspective, air conditioning made the South livable year round. One could work hard outside on a mid-summer Georgia day and find comfort in an air conditioned break at work and a cool, comfortable supper and evening at home. Today, we take this comfort for granted across the nation giving it attention only when it's time to change the filter or the compressor dies.


Carrier posing with a 1920 model chiller


If you call the South "home," take a moment today to thank Willis for his contribution, an invention you're going to appreciate so very much in 2024 when that heat begins its sure progress to "bakingly" unbearable levels in the Southern summer.

For more information on the impact of air conditioning on the American experience check out these sites:

http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/keepin-it-cool-how-the-air-conditioner-made-modern-america/241892/

http://www.oldhouseweb.com/how-to-advice/how-air-conditioning-changed-america.shtml




Sunday, August 27, 2023

Instant Climate Change: Krakatoa Then, Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal Now

 

The Scream                                    Edvard Munch 1893



Imagine waking up on this fine Sunday morning to hear that a gigantic magnetic storm will disrupt much of the planet's electronics and communication networks in two days. This event simply isn't going to break up your digital reception of Saturday's big game. It's going to require months of reconstruction - software and hardware - on power grids, communication systems and circuit boards on land, sea, air, and in space. I raise this issue not to alarm but to use coronal mass ejection (CME) and similar electromagnetic pulse (EMP) events as modern-day examples of climate issues that need to compete with the longer term phenomenon of global climate change. Furthermore, I am not about to deny or denigrate the existence and significance of global warming and cooling. It happens and I have no issue with mitigation and preparation for the consequences. On the other hand, sometimes our priorities don't seem to match the serious short-term and potentially catastrophic threats we face. Scientists and engineers already know of an event in 1859 that, had it occurred this morning in our high tech electronic world, would have caused widespread threats to social, political, and economic systems worldwide. 

Why raise the issue today? This day marks the 140 anniversary of the massive volcanic explosion of the Indonesian island known as Krokatoa. The event killed over 36,000 people, sent a measurable shock wave around the world seven times and produced the loudest noise heard in recorded history, a noise heard in Perth, Australia, more than 2800 miles from the island. Geophysical impacts included a decline of over 2 degrees in the planet's average global temperatures and more than a decade of memorable atmospheric events including, vivid sunsets, lavender suns, and noctilucent clouds.

This was an astounding event in earth history and a modern-day lesson in the fragile nature of the planet and its inhabitants. As I've said before, nature in all her beauty can be a cruel mother. In light of the recent events like Mount St. Helens, record setting earthquakes, earth-grazing fireballs, and meteors, it's also a lesson that radical global climate change could occur tomorrow as well as a century from now. Granted, the sciences in question are little more than 150 years old but we have come a long way in understanding, yet we know there are some events beyond knowledge and control.

This is a timely anniversary given that an underwater volcano (Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal) in Tonga, a Pacific island nation, erupted in January 2022 and thrust as much as 160 million tons of water vapor into the stratosphere. Climatologists soon determined this instantaneous 5% increase in water vapor could likely increase global temperatures for some years to come. For climate scientists this is a unique event as it is the first eruption of its kind that can be effectively measured and analyzed. In other words there is no forecast model for the Tonga volcano. All science can do is observe, provide some analysis, and issue essentially speculative forecasts on the impacts of the event. If this year's high temperatures - it's called weather - tell us anything it's that climate scientists seem to be on to something.  

Do keep the faith, my friends. There's a really good probability for sunrise tomorrow. The chances for more tomorrows are equally high because some of our finest earth and space scientists study and stand watch for these threats, short-term and long-term. I can't imagine a more exciting career than one exploring the far reaches of the planet and its journey in the universe.


In case you're wondering: Edvard Muunch painted four versions of The Scream of Nature over a seventeen year period beginning in 1893. Some experts believe his depiction of the vivid orange-red sky came from his observations of similar sunsets caused by the explosion of Krakatoa a decade earlier.




Sources

Text:
The Tonga Volcano Shook the World: It May Also Affect the Climate, The New York Times, September 22, 2022
 

Wednesday, July 19, 2023

Aging Summer Brings The Hunter And His Big Dog


Orion the Hunter



Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At this time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.




First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword. Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.


Sirius the Dog Star


In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius rising from the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.




While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2023 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise. So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!





Saturday, May 27, 2023

On The Cusp Of Summer


I thrive in the heat and sweat of a subtropical summer in what the magazine, Southern Living, calls the Lower South. And although not tropical by nature there's something very comforting about the formation of the season's first  coastal storm especially so close to the Georgia Bight. There is no wish for the winds, torrential rains, or high flood tides to bring trouble. Rather, it is the realization that the climate cycles have reconfirmed what we can expect from the trade winds that brought many of our ancestors to the New World. We call it the hurricane season and it begins on June 1. In fact, the first such storm in 1495 left Christopher Columbus and his crew begging for salvation and motivating their captain to venture in such storms only "in the very service of God."

In Georgia, the trades usually creep in softly around the middle of May. They appeared briefly then disappeared with the passage of what's likely to be the last cool frontal boundary we'll see until October. At this hour our coastal storm drifts slowly north toward the Carolina coast from its position about 300 miles east of Atlanta. The storm's blustery east winds freshened a stunningly beautiful day of crystal blue sky, low humidly, and warm temperatures. 

When the trades return to the Georgia coast, they will bring in the puffy and low fair-weather cumulus clouds that race over the beach. Occasionally the high cirrus and horsetails will precede them signaling waves of unsettled weather that may develop into hurricanes. Thankfully those friendly cumulus clouds simply sweep inland twenty miles or so where they meet hot air rising off the Georgia landscape. This cloud wall in the sky often transforms into a brisk and exciting line of thunderstorms sometimes extending from the city-state of Charleston to the Players Club fairways at Ponte Vedra Beach. In Savannah you can almost set your watch by the showers that drench the Forest City at 3:00 on summer afternoons.


Tybee Island, Georgia


For years I watched from my home and work on the coast as this light show over Savannah arced north and east toward Hilton Head. Sometimes when the land breezes swept in early in the day the storms moved over us. Such a magnificent show. Most storms over Tybee Island ended by midnight. In the early morning hours a quiet southeasterly breeze resumed and embraced the island in salt-saturated humidity only to be replaced by a slight land breeze that persisted until sunrise. If you slept on a porch or without air conditioning, Boat-tailed Grackles scrambling in the island's oleader bushes often made greeting the sunrise a certainty. I only objected on the weekends.

On the Georgia Sea Islands, it seems the trade wind days never want to end. Instead they dwindle ever so slowly into weeks of spectacular warm, dry, cloudless days, cool nights and warm water lasting into November. Of course, the occasional tropical storm can interrupt the coastal idyll that is the norm on the sea islands. It is to be expected and respected by those who share the fragile boundary of life at the ocean's edge.


High tide in salt marsh from US80 on the way to Tybee




Sources


Photos and Illustrations:
island photo, tybeebb.com
salt marsh, Fort Pulaski National Monument Handbook, 1954.

Wednesday, December 21, 2022

Winter 2022


In a few hours winter arrives in Atlanta. That event as well as the drizzle and an afternoon temperature of 42 degrees is more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. Much of the nation won't have long to wait for that weather. By Christmas weekend an Arctic blast will drop temperatures to near freezing on the edge of tropical Florida. Atlanta is likely to experience its third coldest Christmas on record.

Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next two months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with today's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.







For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.







Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Newgrange aerial photo, gaia.com
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org




Saturday, November 26, 2022

Cool Man Willis

 

One of the most significant books in the historiography of the South, Ulrich Bonnell Phillips's Life and Labor in the Old South, begins with these words:

Let us begin by discussing the weather for that has been the chief agency in making the South distinctive. . . . The summers are not merely long but bakingly hot, with temperatures ranging rather steadily in the eighties and nineties of the Fahrenheit scale.

The early 20th century one-story Southern home, with its high-roof, wrap-around porch, and traditional "dog trot" breezeway, is a vernacular response to that bakingly hot summer. Homes of this type can still be found throughout the South. In fact, contemporary construction in the region often incorporates its features in vestigial form. But what has made the South so popular these days? I believe in particular the subtropical climate remains the most powerful draw. The New South's social and political climates also contribute to the demographic shift. Still, Southerners must deal with the heat. And that brings us to the significance of this week in the history of American invention and its application and impact in our lives.






On November 26, 1876, a son, Willis H. Carrier, was born into an old New England family. In 1902, Carrier developed an electrical system of conditioning air in a stiflingly hot and humid Brooklyn printing plant. The new environment ensured stability in the paper and the perfect alignment of four-color printing. It was soon a huge success in several industries that demanded such requirements. By the 1920s, air conditioning became popular in retail trade and entertainment, especially the movie theater. It was a small jump from commercial systems to home systems, and by the 1930s, air conditioning began a slow but steady increase in usage until the post World War II era when it boomed. In two generations, Carrier's application had impacted almost every facet of American life and spread quickly throughout the world in the second half of the century

From an environmental perspective, air conditioning made the South livable year round. One could work hard outside on a mid-summer Georgia day and find comfort in an air conditioned break at work and a cool, comfortable supper and evening at home. Today, we take this comfort for granted across the nation giving it attention only when it's time to change the filter or the compressor dies.


Carrier posing with a 1920 model chiller


If you call the South "home," take a moment today to thank Willis for his contribution, an invention you're going to appreciate perhaps as early as March of 2023 when that heat begins its sure progress to "bakingly" unbearable levels in the Southern summer.

For more information on the impact of air conditioning on the American experience check out these sites:

http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/keepin-it-cool-how-the-air-conditioner-made-modern-america/241892/

http://www.oldhouseweb.com/how-to-advice/how-air-conditioning-changed-america.shtml



Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Greeting Orion In The Dawn At The Edge Of The Sea

 


Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At his time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.




First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw  a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword.  Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.


Orion the Hunter



Sirius the Dog Star


In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius's arrival in the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.

While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2021 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise . So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!





Wednesday, June 1, 2022

Hurricane Season (June 1 - November 1) 2022

 



Well, it seems the first official day of this year's hurricane season has two systems boiling off the Yucatan and Florida coasts.  The Yucatan disturbance shows a high probability of developing as it moves north toward southwest Florida. Here in Atlanta we can tell the tropics are restless because all those puffy cumulus clouds are coming our way on a northeast wind. In fact I can almost feel the sea breeze at Tybee Island.


Tybee Island, Georgia. My home for several years


Indeed, it appears our coastal neighbors will have to contend with some wet and windy weather by week's end. That also means a good chance of beach erosion and rip currents on the barrier islands along the Southeast Bight. 

Confidence is high that we'll experience more tropical systems between now and the end of the official season on November 1. With that in mind the following information should be useful.










For more information on hurricane science and forecasting visit the National Hurricane Center website.





Sources

Photos and Text:
tropical outlook and two charts, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, Department of Commerce

 

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Winter 2021 Arrives

 

Earlier today winter arrived in Atlanta and the Northern Hemisphere. That event as well as the drizzle and an afternoon temperature of 42 degrees is more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. In fact there's a 325 year-old song - a much older legend as well - where Cupid rouses Cold Genius, the spirit of Winter, to assist King Arthur in a search for his fiance, Princess Emmeline. Cold Genius is not particularly happy being awakened from his icy slumber. It is a surprisingly modern sounding piece of work from the semi-opera, King Arthur, by Henry Purcell and librettist, John Dryden.






What power art thou, who from below,
Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow,
From beds of everlasting snow?


See'st thou not how stiff and wondrous old,
Far, far unfit to bear the bitter cold,
I can scarcely move or draw my breath;
Let me, let me freeze again to death.



Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next two months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with yesterday's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.











For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.






At the same time, I have a feeling most of us hope that Cold Genius sleeps peacefully for most of the season.


Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Newgrange aerial photo, worldheritageireland.ie
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org



Saturday, November 27, 2021

Willis Carrier And His Transformative Technology


One of the most significant books in the historiography of the South, Ulrich Bonnell Phillips's Life and Labor in the Old South, begins with these words:


Let us begin by discussing the weather for that has been the chief agency in making the South distinctive. . . .  The summers are not merely long but bakingly hot, with temperatures ranging rather steadily in the eighties and nineties of the Fahrenheit scale.

The early 20th century single story Southern home, with its high-roof, wrap-around porch, and traditional "dog trot" breezeway, is a vernacular response to that bakingly hot summer. Homes of this type can still be found throughout the South, in fact, contemporary construction in the region often incorporates its features in vestigial form. But what has made the South so popular these days? I believe in particular the subtropical climate remains the most powerful draw. The New South's social and political climates also contribute to the demographic shift. Still, Southerners must deal with the heat. And that brings us to the significance of this week in the history of American invention and its application and impact in our lives. 





This week in November 1876, a son, Willis H. Carrier, was born into an old New England family. In 1902, Carrier developed a system of conditioning air in a stiflingly hot and humid Brooklyn printing plant. The new environment ensured stability in the paper and the perfect alignment of four-color printing. It was soon a huge success in several industries that demanded such requirements. By the 1920s, air conditioning became popular in retail trade and entertainment, especially the movie theater. It was a small jump from commercial systems to home systems, and by the 1930s, air conditioning began a slow but steady increase in usage until the post World War II era when it boomed. In two generations, Carrier's application had impacted almost every facet of American life and spread quickly throughout the world in the second half of the century

From an environmental perspective, air conditioning made the South livable year round. One could work hard outside on a mid-summer Georgia day and find comfort in an air conditioned break at work and a cool, comfortable supper and evening at home. Today, we take this comfort for granted across the nation giving it attention only when it's time to change the filter or the compressor dies.


Carrier posing with a 1920 model chiller


If you call the South "home," take a moment today to thank Willis for his contribution, an invention you're going to appreciate perhaps as early as March of 2022 when that heat begins its sure increase to "bakingly" unbearable levels in the Southern summer.

For more information on the impact of air conditioning on the American experience check out these sites:

http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/keepin-it-cool-how-the-air-conditioner-made-modern-america/241892/

http://www.oldhouseweb.com/how-to-advice/how-air-conditioning-changed-america.shtml







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