Category Archives: Clouds

With the coming of March, spring contests with the last vestiges of winter.  I love this time of year because the play of the weather is more active now than it is at any other time here in Texas.

Take last Monday, for instance.  After hours of drizzling rain, the skies cleared, leaving behind a rain-washed world of beauty.

There were even rainbows.

This is a little horse farm about a mile from my house.  It’s one of the last farms in Fairview that hasn’t been sold to developers yet. 

Looking into Wilson Creek Valley.  My home is on a ridge just above the old creek.

I can hardly wait for spring to come in full force!

Most of our winter days look like this.  Or worse - we might be under nimbostratus.  At least when I took this picture, there was some variation in the sky.

A lot of variation when one took a closer look.

However, a few weeks ago, we had a spectacular sunset.  I was sequestered in my room and unable to walk outside, but I grabbed my camera anyway and climbed up on my desk.  There’s a mighty good reason why my bedroom has double windows facing due west.

The sky was clear and cold - a perfect contrast to the clouds which appeared to be on fire.

Here’s a different kind of exposure.  I love playing with my camera settings!

Sunsets really have to be watched because the colors fade rapidly. 

Beautiful, simply beautiful.

I miss green.

Really I do.  I love the russet colors of autumn, but about December, I really start missing green.

The only thing green in December is evergreen trees.  And the only plentiful evergreens in Texas are Eldaricas and cedars.

We have a lot of Eldaricas in our neighborhood.

And cedars.  BIG cedars. 

These Eldaricas belong to our neighbors.  They have graciously allowed the little ones to play on the cushion of sweet-smelling needles under the trees.

Eldaricas are excellent sources of pinecones.

One thing’s for sure: we have a lot of blue and white in winter, even without snow.

In Texas, “snow” never actually comes to the ground except in rare instances.  It stays aloft, tantalizing observers.

This is strato-cumulus.

And this is a light fan of cirro-cumulus.

Long sweeps of cirrus look like they’ve been painted on a blue dome.

Blue is pretty.  But I miss the green.

Cloud Photo Shoot

Yesterday, we had a spectacular cloud show in the early evening.  This was preceding another cold front.  A warm, humid wind was blowing very strongly from the southwest.

There were many layers of clouds torn about by the varying levels of wind.  The lighter clouds in the background were high enough to catch the sunlight.

Here you can clearly see the path of light, ranging from lines here and there in the distance to the tiny stratus filament in the foreground colored an orange brown.

This is what the sky looked like to the west.  Because it was evening, the sky beyond the clouds was pale…

…while lack of light mixed a darker shade of blue in the east. 

From the northeast, a tremendous jet flew in.  I envy the passengers.  Can you imagine seeing the clouds from their lofty vantage point?

Swelling cumulus with a gold lining.  Caused by the same scattering of light as a silver lining, but because the light has to travel though more layers of atmosphere in the evening, it appears golden to the eye.

Looking to the north-east.  This cloud was wonderfully backlit.

The clouds were feeding off the rich moisture in the air and the warmth from the sun.  Cumulus clouds were erupting to immense heights everywhere I looked, fast enough that I had a hard time keeping up with them.  I didn’t know where to point my camera next.

You can really see just how huge these clouds were.  I dislike cold weather, but I must admit it makes for a wonderful show.

The top of this cloud is small enough for the light to penetrate it.  It almost appears to be glowing.

Here is a swelling cumulus giant - about half the size of the one in the above picture - that was completely cast in shadow.  Note the difference in color from the last picture to this.

There’s that high peak again.  This cloud was so large, almost everything east was dark in its shadow.

Including these clouds, except for the high alto cumulus above. 

More photos of the high cloud.  The higher it went, the more golden the crest became.  It reminded me of the giants waves C.S. Lewis describes in his novel Perelandra.

I had to laugh when I took this picture - there’s a face in the cloud!  I think it looks a bit a like a lion, or like some creature from a fairy-tale.

Finally, the swelling cumulus cast in shadow rose high enough to catch some sunlight of its own.  Contrasted with the low stratus filaments below, it made a pretty picture.

I noticed a gleaming white speck between the clouds as they floated overhead.

It was the moon.

The next picture reminded me of a Japanese song I once heard…

In the moonlight, I felt your heart
Quiver like a bowstring’s pulse.
In the moon’s pure light, you looked at me;
Nobody knows your heart.

When the sun has gone, I see you,
Beautiful and haunting, but cold
Like the blade of a knife, so sharp, so sweet;
Nobody knows your heart.

All of your sorrow, grief and pain
Locked away in the forest of the night…
Your secret heart belongs to the world
Of the things that sigh in the dark,
Of the things that cry in the dark…

About an hour later, the moon was really shining.

It was hard to photograph the cloud forms with the darkness closing in.  I am not a good nighttime photographer.

In this last picture, you can see the first curtains of rain beginning to fall.  It stormed all night, and is still raining as of this afternoon.

I had made up my mind to take a break from blogging for a while because my allergies pretty much ground me for the fall.  There are other projects I need to be doing (like artwork, finishing up a cross-stitch, writing stories for my sisters…etc…etc).  That ended up being a faulty resolution.  Yesterday, I was taking an afternoon nap (my allergies drain me of a lot of energy) when I felt the wind dying down and noticed the dimming light outside my window. Something was looming overhead, and by the rich colors swirling beyond the pecan tree leaves, I felt sure it was a cloudscape. 

It was, and as you can see, it was more than spectacular.  This is looking west, slightly south-west.  There had been some rain early in the morning, but the sky had cleared by the early afternoon.   

This is looking slightly north-east.  I wish I had the ability to really capture the immensity of this storm, but a camera can only give me so much space.

Looking south-east at bands of alto stratus. 

The south-west view.  The wind was blowing from the south-west, presumably being sucked into the low-pressure area behind the storm (this was a cold front of some sort).  Consequently, the ragweed pollen wasn’t bothering me as much.

It was very difficult to get shots of the storm’s interior because rapidly darkening.  All of my attempts were blurred by lack of light.

Here are some detail photographs.

I especially like this one. 

The storm broke over supper. It wasn’t a terrifying storm, though that may not be much because storms rarely frighten me these days.  I heard thunder in the distance, but didn’t see much lightening.  The rain leveled a lot of dust, for which I was grateful.  Later on the evening, some of my family went out on errands while I stayed home to watch children.  Hardly had they left when Mom called me on the phone and told me to walk outside with my camera.  There was something out there that I would be very pleased to see…

…and, boy, was there! 

To the south-east, the storm was wet and dark with occasional flickers of lightening.  The larger peals of thunder were easily felt in the trembling ground.

East of my house was a double rainbow, and the first bow was highly vivid.  This was a rare and much enjoyed treat!

So much for not having anything to blog about.

It’s going to be a while before I can venture outdoors to photograph my beloved clouds for a while, unless I get a good shot from my bedroom window.  Ragweed allergies are on the rise and I am besieged in my own house. Thankfully, we’ve had storms all week (and possibly more this week to come) and I’ve watched for days as the low, gray clouds scuttled over the prairie. The rain washes the pollen from the air, so I can actually venture out of doors during a good downpour without the nasty side effects.  But the house was very dark for a long time.  I was glad when the clouds began to clear late in the week.

I’ve seen some lovely examples of alto cumulus and alto stratus these past few days.  Those are clouds I almost always seen in late fall and winter.  I can’t remember seeing them this early in the season; however, until last summer I wasn’t looking for them either, so there’s not much water in that theory.

Sky of mixed clouds at varying heights - the dark grey is low stratus, the white probably alto stratus.  The low stratus was moving swiftly on the wings of a stiff wind.

I took these last Saturday, and later regretted it.   Sneezing fits aren’t exactly my favorite pasttime.  But when I looked out the kitchen windows… it’s very hard for me to resist the lure of the outdoors.  If I could have my way, I would spend every waking minute under the vast skies.

There’s that rainwashed sky again.  The blue of the sky after the storm is the softest, purest it ever gets, except perhaps for a dewy April morning.

I won’t be indoors for long.

Dad took these photos last Friday and gave them to me.

I would have given anything to be on the western windows of this plain.

This is how I always want to remember my childhood home.

I want to remember looking up and seeing the great white mountains sweeping over the prairie…

…and to stand still and watch them swell with heat and moisture.

Sometimes I can hardly believe all I have to do is step outside into my backyard to see something like this.

Behold, God is great, and we know him not, neither can the number of his years be searched out.  For he maketh small the drops of water: they pour down rain according to the vapour thereof: Which the clouds do drop and distil upon man abundantly.  Also can any understand the spreadings of the clouds, or the noise of his tabernacle?  Behold, he spreadeth his light upon it, and covereth the bottom of the sea.  Job 36:26-30

With clouds he covereth the light; and commandeth it not to shine by the cloud that cometh betwixt… At this also my heart trembleth, and is moved out of his place.  Hear attentively the noise of his voice, and the sound that goeth out of his mouth.  He directeth it under the whole heaven, and his lightning unto the ends of the earth.  After it a voice roareth: he thundereth with the voice of his excellency; and he will not stay them when his voice is heard.  God thundereth marvellously with his voice; great things doeth he, which we cannot comprehend.  For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth; likewise to the small rain, and to the great rain of his strength.  Job 36:33 & Job 37:1-6

We’ve had a lot of rain this week, thanks to the El Nino.  Last Friday I snapped these pictures when the first of the rainstorms formed east of my house.  This picture was taken facing north east towards my friend Elisha’s house.  Perhaps this storm was raining there already.

That little dot is an airplane.  I really envy the passenger’s view.

Notice the funnel cloud to the lower left.  I don’t believe it was a tornado, but its presence may indicate gustnados, or perhaps small funnels of clouds that indicate where the storm is feeding off the humid air.  Emily took this picture, by the way.

This picture seems to indicate the latter theory as correct.  Several small funnels are visible.

Here is a gust front, opening up like a whale’s mouth.

Late Summer

I love afternoon drives that take me places.  Especially all those places around my childhood home.

Drives past lakes…

…where one can catch sights of ducks and elegent geese.

Drives past fields of ripened grain and corn.

And the neighbor’s llama.

Past restored historic buildings, like this old farmhouse.

And outhouse.

I love driving beyond the boundaries formed by Wilson’s Creek…

Where I can discover little surprises in the country farms just west of Lavon Lake.

Then to come home…

And gaze awestruck at the increddible skyscape visible from my backyard.

I love summer.

In the late summer, the green of the leaves matures.

At last, a faint hue of olive is visable when the light shimmers throught the fluttering canopy.

Nuts begin to ripen.

Seeds are mature.

Bird nests become deserted.

Summer wildflowers are raising their last blossums to the sunny sky.

This is a Texas Sycamore.  I love sycamores.  There is a historic cemetary in Blue Ridge that is lined with these elegent trees.  I told Mom once that if anything ever happened to me to bury me there.

However, the best thing about summer is clouds.

Lots and lots of clouds.

I never, ever in all my years have tired of watching them.

Every five minutes, they change shape.

Consider this storm I photographed the other week.  In ten minutes, it turned from this…

…to this.  Very dramatic.

Lenticular clouds, only formed at high altitudes.  I’ve only spotted these unusual clouds a few times.

Summer is waning fast.  Soon these sights will be deprived from me for many long months.

So… I intend to soak up as much as I can in these last few weeks.


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