Wednesday, July 10, 2013

One Down Means One Down

Chantal decided to shimmy shake by us, leaving essentially no rain in the Virgin Islands and only a couple of intense downpours over us. That was nice.

I walked out in the morning to see what the sky had to say. Instead, I listened to Jose. I should have known then that Chantal never had a chance.


I never understand people who are disappointed that 'they went to all the trouble to prepare and nothing happened.' I, for one, would not have asked for help to get an extra layer of roof on the chicken coop, along with a few other things that got done because of my deep desire to not watch certain items I like fly away. I know others who had the same experience. We've all had it, as long as we live where, for six months of the year, Mother Nature can lead you a merry dance of anticipation.


With the vast technology we have available, almost anyone can play amateur meteorologist. Some do it very well, some should just be quiet or simply admit they are tossing balls in the air and whatever lands in their hand, that's what you'll hear about. I don't even really remember much of hearing a lot when I was a kid, or at least no fear factor in it. You pulled in the porch furniture, X'd the sliders with masking tape, filled up the tub water and played a lot of Scrabble and gin rummy.


We were lucky; we never lost a home, or a roof, some flora displacement at the worst. It meant we couldn't go to the beach (which was worse than anything), and when we finally did get there, sand would be where sand usually wasn't, piled in sharp edged shelves of itself, exposing treasures (not plastic, not tar, not back then). There would be beautiful, magical swirly twirly shells in coquina colors and lovely driftwood that we would burn for its ocean chemical color show. There would be the sharp iron-like tang of new seaweed, which made great wigs for playing mermaid. The air would still be charged with ionic power, something children and animals feel strongly and respond accordingly.


All those years of potential storms and relaxed preparations kept the potential of storms an event of interest and wonder. So 'nothing happens' sometimes? I don't think so. Something is always happening, the randomness of whatever the natural world chooses, the plans that can be carried out with surgical precision (I'm talking about putting up shutters here and you know what I mean - mainly, the cuts), all of it wrapped up in the mystery of what comes next.

Oops! I forgot the early warning cuteness alert!
Chantal moves off, as the recon plane flies in to see if it has become a tropical wave, disintegrating before our eyes. I'm thankful, if so. 174,907,893,240 raindrops is not what Haiti needs.

Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Indeed.
If you are interested in things National Weather Service related, this is an interesting bullet laden history of how the NWS came into being. It's full of little factoids like this:

1948: USAF Air Weather Service meteorologists issue first tornado warnings from Tinker Air Force Base.
 

Princeton's Institute for Advanced Studies begins research into use of a computer for weather forecasting. (this was in 1948!!!)

Chicago Weather Bureau office demonstrates use of facsimile for map transmission.

 

Truck-mounted campers first used as mobile forecast stations in major forest fires.

Yes, I think things like that are interesting and I'm not ashamed. Hi, My name is MJ and I have a geeky side.

Have a wholesome Wednesday. Do something well-balanced .





1 comment:

  1. Failing to plan is planning to fail.
    I have prepared for so many hurricanes over the years that it has become nearly rote!
    A "miss" is a wonderful thing!
    Thank you, Goddess of Good Fortune!
    m

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