Our Window on Nature

You can’t actually see the wind. It’s as invisible as sound waves or thermal energy. Yet wind manifests itself in tangible, sometimes startling ways.

The other day as we walked out on the desert we heard the sound of water swirling down a manhole. Well, that’s what it sounded like. We noticed pebbles tumbling almost at our feet, and bushes trembling and grasses bending — and yet we felt no movement. It was a desert whirlwind, acting upon things we could see.

Clouds speeding across the sky give more evidence of wind, and when we see two levels of clouds traveling in opposing directions we realize that winds aloft can blow from different points of the compass. Other times we watch clouds torn into fragments and strewn across the sky, all done by the wind. (Read the rest …)

Today may be Groundhog Day, but regardless of whether Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow this morning, I think we’ll probably have a bit more cold weather before Spring arrives.

In case you’ve missed out on this exciting bit of nature lore, Punxsutawney is a village in Pennsylvania, and each year at this time the local groundhog, Phil by name, comes out of his burrow to make a weather forecast. If he sees his shadow, it means we’ll have another six weeks of cold winter weather, so Phil heads back to his burrow. But if it’s cloudy this morning, the rest of the winter will be mild. Sounds about as accurate as a few weathermen we’ve known.

Last month, with some unseasonably cold weather, the water we put out for the local animals froze solid — that ice cube up above was about four inches thick. When a resident squirrel kept licking the ice to quench his thirst, it reminded us of the importance of water for wildlife.

But be careful how you keep that water liquid. Each year some well-meaning people try to have water available in their backyards but poison the animals by diluting it with anti-freeze. Or they will use glycerin, which can also lead to fatalities.

If you’d like to see several commercial solutions, follow this link. Or play handyman and run an outdoor electric cord to a light bulb covered by a clay flower pot. Place your bird bath or water container on top of the pot and it will keep the ice from forming during all but the coldest weather.

Or do as we do — make a morning ritual of saying hello to the birds as you scatter some seed and then chip the ice from their water. It’s a nice way to start the day.

As for Punxsutawney Phil, we just got word that it was cloudy in that part of Pennsylvania this morning. No shadow. That means a mild rest of the winter. The local residents have been keeping track of these predictions since 1887, and Phil has been correct about 39% of the time.

The Winter Solstice is almost upon us (at least in the Northern Hemisphere), and according to many that brings on the first day of Winter. I wonder if we should tell that to all those digging out from this year’s early snowstorms. But December 22nd does, at least, have the longest night and the shortest day.

Because the axis of the earth is tilted, as we make our yearly journey around the sun different parts of the earth receive increasing or decreasing amounts of sunlight. And the amount of sunlight, of course, affects the temperature. But as with most things in nature, it’s not quite as simple as it sounds.

If you heat a pot of water on a stove, turning off the burner doesn’t immediately bring the liquid back to room temperature. In the same manner, after the oceans and landmasses have been heated during the summer, the warming effects don’t disappear as soon as the days start becoming shorter.

Of course the same is true in reverse, and it will be a while before we see the first signs of a new season. But the solstice is the turning point, both in the gradual change in the angle of the sun’s rays, and in the number of hours we can spend outdoors watching things like the changing seasons.

A summer shower brings renewal, a cleansing of the air, the sky, and the land below. It replaces the dog days’ heat with air so brisk it snaps, and that alone makes up for the slight inconvenience of rain. But old mother nature has even more in store - as a finale - a rainbow.

The shimmering vision spreading across the sky is made of sunlight that travels through the mysterious interior of raindrops. Sunbeams pierce the watery shell and ricochet like well-aimed billiard balls, finding their exit at the precise point that allows you to see them in all their splendor. (Read the rest …)