I’m wishing for spring and the warmth summer.
But a glorious display changed my mind this morning.
What’s the hurry?
Why be impatient?
Give in to the day
And savor its treasures.
Twigs and branches
Loud and Large
But weak to me.
Wow! It’s hard to believe that there have been so many days of high winds this year. That is, unless you live here. Today is no different from the rest. It’s a repeat of the previous ones. I guess the wind is living fancy free and I am at its mercy.
There have been some beautiful sunsets on these days. I’d love to share one but you’ll have to settle for a slide show from last year as I feel no compunction to risk my hands and fingers to the sub-zero temperatures today.
Oh, baby! The weather usurps a post for 21 days at sea. The wind has been a whippin’ by today. It actually started last night when a high pressure system built up out of western New York. Steep pressure gradients formed around the system went into flight mode heading to the Newfoundland Low. Cold arctic air is being funneled through these systems via the jet stream and other factors.
Mount Washington, New Hampshire reported sustained winds upward of 122 mph today. The Valley, Gorham and Berlin reported winds of 15 to 20 mph sustained for a few hours, winding down to 9 mph hour this evening. Click here to see an animated wind map (current view only).
“The Hill” of Randolph New Hampshire is the Mt. Washington of Mt. Washington Valley. Sugar Plum Farm, my home, is at the pinnacle of “The Hill.” The open fields create a great plain’s state feel with the added impact of weather created by mountains. Our sustained winds today reached upward of 38 mph with gusts to 55 mph to my knowledge. The windchill value as low as -40 degrees. That did it for here. It hasn’t snowed and the fields have been wind whipped clean of snow but Sugar Plum Farm is snowed in. Where does this snow come from? It’s being blown off the mountains where it blasts through open areas piling up against trees and downwind of drifts. We called in a giant loader to open up the driveway. We will also require a plow truck to open up the driveway again in the morning.
Loader at Work
What we plan to happen and what really happens is a test of character, the very essence of who we are.
I’m finally at rest after two and a half days of listening to wind. The average mph over time was 33 mph. However, hours of 40 mph with gusts around 50 to 55 and few blasts beyond 60 mph raged across the fields at my home while the neighbors enjoy the protection of trees or live down the hill.
I checked the internet for a Randolph weather report and laughed as usual, as the conditions are from Gorham or Berlin. Wind 0 mph and the highest during the roar up here was 12 mph. I’m sure those snug inside the Mt. Washington Observatory laugh at me. I checked up on them and saw 93 mph sustained winds. There’s always the somewhere else that resets my perspective.
We did have a slight reprieve for a few hours on Sunday night. The clouds fled the sky releasing the moon from their dark firm grasp. I stepped out the door to have a look and saw its bright light, a perfect white to my imperfect eyes. I walked back inside to look out a window. The Elm Tree was back lit by the light of the moon, leaving finger like shadows upon the snow. It was a remarkable sight because nothing moved. The tree upon the snow was so still. This is the picture that fills my head and will do so again and again, every time I find solace after the violence of nature comes to end.
Here are some photos of spindrift that I nearly froze my hands off taking. For those who know where I live, I saw spindrift flying off Mt. Crescent for the first time ever. Click on Photo for full screen and description.
I showed this video clip on facebook from a windy day earlier this year. Try listening to the noise level several days in a row. (Including the relentless pounding my house took, shudders, creaks and snaps was it cry against the onslaught.)
Finally, some quiet. The photo below is a symbol of the relief and solace I felt when I saw the Elm Tree branches perfectly still.
I step out of the shrubs while savoring the last of my little big nourishment, “rose hip delight.” Whoa! The tide is rolling in. A shiver courses through me from the smack of cold air encouraging me to change into something warmer, but I can’t. I must watch the scene unfold.
It’s just beginning, this wonder of nature. A tug of war between sun and moon. Heat driven wind flows from land into sea. Long rolling swells build monumental waves. Not now, but they can grow upwards to 100+ feet. I’ll pass on those. I shiver a bit and walk to the shore. I watch and wait. I listen in silence, a skill not yet perfected, but improving with time. I pull out my camera and snap a few photos. They will only catch a glimpse of all that surrounds me but I hope when I’m home I can help them along.
I hold up the camera to shoot some video. The center is blurry as it has been for a year. It’s fine for still shots but annoying with video. I don’t care and do it anyway. I also wrote a poem or a semblance thereof. The words are in the video watch it to read.
I’ve been enjoying the company of a pair of Red-Breasted Nuthatches, both male. One of the pair lets me stand beside him while feeding on suet.
The mix upon the ground.
He tilts his head.
This is good stuff.
Me standing still.
Do you want more?
A fleeting glance.
That would be nice.
Who is the guest?
Him or me?