You probably do not know this about me unless you used to pay close attention to the timestamp on blog posts for so many years. Most were posted between 3am and 5am in the morning. There is a history to the WHY of this habit, for another time, perhaps.
Regarding the WHAT, It used to be reading, writing and contemplating that got me out of bed (in a cold farmhouse where somebody did not get up to feed the wood stove in the wee hours.)
These days, it is still writing and such—plus needing to kindle back the outdoor wood furnace after an 8-10 hour burn. This is a task I do not resent or regret (in fact, it could wait until after daylight), because it carries me out under the stars (and yes, also too often in the abrasive winds).
On these pre-dawn trips into whatever conditions the day offers, I am awed by the utter quiet and tranquility of the world at night. We too infrequently take that opportunity to know this dark half of our Earth-days. I have no other option. And I’m glad for that. Here’s what I saw when I turned to come back inside from the wood shed this morning.
Farmer’s Almanac says that a ring around sun or moon means impending rain or snow. I don’t think that is a consistent predictor, but sometimes, by chance, it is “true.” We do have freezing rain expected tomorrow.
I will have to see what I can find on celestial halos in Eric Sloane’s WeatherBook. We gave this book as a Christmas gift this year. If you don’t know this illustrator’s work, it is worth a look.
Eric Sloane/Dover Publications
Robert Krulwich asks How High is the Sky and uses Sloane’s illustrations to answer that question.
Since we now have this book on the coffee table, don’t be surprised if I don’t share my own gleanings from this book that dates back to the 40s.
Some things (like WEATHER) we have with us always. And some times, like this morning, I am fortunate and happy to be a Weather Watcher.
I think Eric’s illustrations are excellent, but they overstate the proportionality of the atmosphere to the planet itself. Five to ten miles to the troposphere is nothing compared to the 7900 miles to the other side of this ball we live on. We survive in an ever so thin film attached to the outside of a rock. Why we abuse it at all is the ink stain on our legacy, whatever that is.