I couldn't find the rest of the photos I wanted to post until today.

Yeah, okay... One of those cloud photos from the previous post was man made, but wasn't it cool? Though it appeared a plane had gone down (or up) 'twas just an illusion. Jet streams actually do affect cloud formation to a great degree in parts of the country which are on major flight paths. (I read that somewhere - and experienced it when I lived in Western New York: overcast 60% of the time! - and thought to owe at least 20% of those cloudy days to jet streams, the particulates in the exhaust attract molecules of moisture and ta-da!

clouds!!!

This little series documents one of my cloud chasing adventures. I spotted a line of mare's tails dancing across the western sky just like a sparkling chorus line. I grabbed my camera and headed up the mountain to try and get a better view. I zoomed toward them and they danced away over the tree line. I topped the mountain and headed into the most open area I could find which happened to be a new subdivision... A few folks wondered what it was up in the sky that interested me so - but no one dared to ask.

I'm fascinated by these little tornadoes of ice crystals... It's as if there are several little twisters high in the sky.

I added the info on man-made clouds because I was thinking about those sweet groundhogs who are disturbed from a nice sleep every year so that we can all rest, knowing (heh) just how much winter is left... Odds are that in the Northeast part of the country it's likely to be cloudy. Not so today. Sun in PA; clouds in GA. Spring will be early in the south and late in the north... That's not much of a surprise is it?

Groundhog Day! Why not keep it as a day to honor one of our cutest and most resilient of creatures ? And when evening comes, spend it watching a classic Bill Murray film.

I say: leave the little furballs be. Here's a true sign of spring: daffodils!!

These beauties actually bloomed over two weeks ago, but it seemed cruel to show them off before Groundhog Day - when at least folks "know" what to expect.

It's Clouds illusions I recall, I really don't know clouds at all. - Joni Mitchell.
Last week I was looking at images of cloud formations online, when I came across a site called: The Cloud Appreciation Society. I was amazed!! I was delighted!! Cloud Appreciators had to be my kind of people, by whom I mean folks whose eyes wouldn't narrow or glaze over at a mention of fallstreaks or mackerel skies; people who wouldn't look at me sideways when I told them I was a cloud chaser; people who would actually get excited over the beauty of clouds.
As they say on the Society's website:

"At The Cloud Appreciation Society we love clouds, we’re not ashamed to say it and we’ve had enough of people moaning about them ... see how we are fighting the banality of ‘blue-sky thinking’."

Most people think of weather as a subject to break the ice or as small talk, but I love deep discussions of weather, storms, precipitation - and cloud chasing. Yeah, yeah, I know everyone's heard of storm chasers, those dare-devil types who froth spittle as they careen over the Great Midwestern Plains... But we cloud chasers are perhaps a little more sedate. We're just as happy seeking the rare crescent cloud or a chorus line of mare's tails as a funnel cloud (well, nearly). And though I may zip along the road as quickly as legally possible, I'm not likely to encounter anything more dangerous than the strange looks of motorists or homeowners as I repeatedly speed up and slow down, pull over, turn around or jump from my idling car to sprint for a clear line of sight.






Clouds don't last. They are but transitory phenomena, to be savored by the eye and captured by the lens - and to someday find their way onto my canvases.

I'm excited about joining up for the nominal fee of L4. or $5.68 (US Currency).

I'll be member #14, 401...




Cloud-walls of the morning's gray
Faced with amber column,
Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn.
May-mists, for the casements, fetch,
Pale and glimmering,
With a sunbeam hid in each,
And a smell of spring.
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning