(n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy or peace of mind during rainy days.
Freezing rain and snow
Folks falling on their butts now
Mother Nature laughs.
My contribution to WPC – Repurpose…Mother nature is the ultimate upcycler…from water to snow to water again…
This is my first attempt at snowflake macro work. And haiku, for that matter. I should probably just stick to photography.
I was searching out some landscape shots for a weekly photo challenge, but a winter storm we had going on rendered everything flat and dull. I was trying to shoot a grain elevator when a little squall opened up started raining down these big, fat flakes for just a few minutes. The contrast of the buildings and asphalt with the white snow turned nothing into something. Ahhh, the magic of Wyoming. Main street in Yoder, population 128.
Winter in Wyoming
“It’s winter in Wyoming,
And the gentle breezes blow,
Seventy miles an hour,
At twenty-five below.
Oh, how I love Wyoming,
When the snow’s up to your butt,
You take a breath of winter,
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I’ll stick around,
I could never leave Wyoming,
’cause I’m frozen to the ground!”
A lot of folks tell me “Oh, I wish I could live in Wyoming. It is so beautiful!”
And it is. Until it isn’t. Are you tough enough?
It was easy to get in the holiday spirit this morning. As we decorated the tree and Wyokiddo zipped around “helping” me decorate, these big fat flakes started falling. I say let it snow!
This cloud tried so hard to turn into a grownup thunderstorm. It even had some brief flashes of lightning. But in the end, it ran out of steam and fell apart. But there was beauty in the struggle. Definitely something I need to remember…there is beauty in the struggle. Good night from God’s Country.
My response to the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Cherry on top.
While Outdoor Guy toiled away tending to pheasants, Wyokiddo and I spent some time cooling off in the town pool. She swam and splashed her way through the better part of the afternoon as I kept one eye on her and one eye on a burgeoning thunderstorm toward the south.
When my little water bug had her fill, we headed for home. As our car climbed out of the valley and headed toward the bird farm, the tail end of the storm I’d been watching crossed the plains up ahead. A solid wall of white and gray clouds extended as far as I could see from east to west. I hoped it meant rain, because we have been oh so very, very dry here in the Inter-mountain West.
Excited, I called Outdoor Guy and confirmed that it was indeed raining at our house. By the time I pulled into the driveway, the water falling from the sky was oscillating between big, fat raindrops and pea-sized hail. My husband met me at our unattached garage with raincoats for me and Wyokiddo so we wouldn’t get soaked dashing to the house.
It is only our second summer here in Goshen County, Wyoming, so we don’t really have a yardstick of measurement. But all of our friends and colleagues are saying it has been one of the hottest, driest summers they can remember. Outdoor Guy and I were practically giddy with excitement at the moisture. Thirty minutes later, the skies were clear and we were left with 6/10s of an inch of rain and cooler temperatures in the wake of the storm.
The cherry on top was the chance for Wyokiddo to go splashing in puddles. Life is always better when there are puddles.
My response to the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Opposites.
Earth meets sky. Pink clouds over green grass. The calm of the evening versus the impending storm. All of it happening right as day turns into night. Gotta love Wyoming!
Mother Nature humbled me yet again with her beautiful display of clouds, sky and light.
Are you ready for a quick meteorological lesson?
I recently joined a few Wyoming photography groups on Facebook. They are a fun place to view and share photos of a state I love. With the recent weather that’s been moving across the state, people have been posting lots of sunset and frost photos.
Most of the time, I keep my comments about photo quality or grammar to myself. I’m no troll. But with the sheer volume of people incorrectly spelling the term to describe the thick white frost we see on trees and fences around our state, I felt compelled to take action.
The term is spelled hoar frost. Hoar comes from hoary, an Old English term that means showing signs of old age. In the context of frost, it is the kind of frost that makes trees and bushes look like white hair. The image above, taken when we lived in Boulder, Wyoming, is an example of hoar frost.
There are other kinds of frost, like window frost, white frost, advection frost, rime and black frost (we call it black ice around here). Oh and Jack Frost. He’s a cool cat. There are subtle differences between each kind of frost, most of which are lost on me. When in doubt, just call it frost. If you have someone that presses you on further identifying EXACTLY what kind of frost it is, drop them as a friend. You don’t need that kind of pressure in your life.
But, if you insist on categorizing your frost, remember it’s h-o-a-r.
W-H-O-R-E. I really don’t want to see what could be rightly described as whore frost.
If you are sharing photos or writing about weather phenomena, remember, h-o-a-r. You’ll thank me later.