Major Winter Storm Headed for the Great Lakes

We may not get socked with anything quite as bad as the three feet of snow that got dumped on Maryland a few days ago, but lower Michigan is poised for a major snow slam starting tomorrow morning. The current warning text from GRR reads as follows:

A WINTER STORM WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 7 AM TUESDAY TO
1 PM EST WEDNESDAY.

HAZARDOUS WEATHER...

 * 6 TO 12 INCHES OF SNOW IS EXPECTED FROM DAYBREAK TUESDAY THROUGH
   WEDNESDAY MORNING.

 * THE HEAVIEST SNOW IS EXPECTED TOWARD THE INTERSTATE 94
   CORRIDOR WHERE 8 TO 12 INCHES OF SNOW IS EXPECTED. THE
   INTERSTATE 96 CORRIDOR WILL SEE 6 TO 10 INCHES OF SNOW...
   WHICH INCLUDES GRAND RAPIDS AND LANSING.

 * SNOW WILL BEGIN TUESDAY MORNING AND BECOME HEAVY FOR LATE
   TUESDAY AFTERNOON AND TUESDAY NIGHT.

 * BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW IS EXPECTED TUESDAY EVENING THROUGH
   THROUGH WEDNESDAY MORNING AS NORTH WINDS INCREASE TO 15 TO 25
   MPH.

no images were found

Here’s what the NAM-based F5 proprietary snowfall total shows for Wednesday at 18Z. (Click on the image to enlarge it.) The GFS moves things more to the south and probably is a bit more in line with the NWS forecast. But either way, tomorrow is going to be very different from the beautiful day we’ve had here today in West Michigan.

Well, what else can we expect? It’s early February, after all, and the groundhog probably was spot-on in his forecast for six more weeks of winter. I guess that explains why there’s open season on groundhogs in Michigan.

Countdown to March

It’s the last day of January. Just one month to go till storm season begins! Yeah, baby!

I’m not the only one who thinks this way. A lot of you fellow storm chasers get happy at the thought of March arriving. It won’t be much longer–just four little weeks. Then spring begins.

That’s right, spring. While the vernal equinox will occur on March 20 at 2:35 a.m. EST this year, marking the arrival of astronomical spring, March 1 is the beginning of meteorological spring. Yes, boys and girls, there really is such a thing.

The Roman calendar began the year and the spring season on the first of March, with each season occupying three months. In 1780 the Societas Meteorologica Palatina, an early international organization for meteorology, defined seasons as groupings of three whole months. Ever since, professional meteorologists all over the world have used this definition.[5] So, in meteorology for the Northern hemisphere: spring begins on 1 March, summer on 1 June, autumn on 1 September, and winter on 1 December.

–From “Season,” Wikipedia

The long and short of it is, even as middle-tier states from the Texas panhandle eastward are dealing with the aftermath of an ugly winter storm, spring is just around the corner. On Tuesday, Groundhog Day, we’ll get the authoritative word from Punxatawney Phil on what the next six weeks holds in store weatherwise. But whatever his verdict may be, the fact is, we’re two-thirds of the way through meteorological winter. We’re almost there!

So dust off your laptop. Spring will be here before you know it.

The Cloudspotter’s Guide: From Nomenclature to Human Hailstones to Surfing the Morning Glory, Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Clouds

I had crossed the world to meet this cloud, and, finally, here we were, face to face. I held my hand to shield my eyes from the brilliant rays, now that the sun was well off the northeastern horizon. And these cascaded down the cloud’s face, casting long, warm shadows along the ripples of its surface. The undulations gently rose up with the progress of the wave, before disappearing over the crest.

In so many words, Gavin Pretor-Pinney describes his first encounter with an unusual and wonderful cloud called the Morning Glory. The setting is Burketown, south of the Gulf of Carpenteria, halfway between nowhere and oblivion in the hinterlands of northern Queensland, Australia. To this tiny community, a growing number of glider pilots make annual pilgrimage, convening to take advantage of the ultimate gliding experience: surfing the Morning Glory. While this wave-like cloud formation–and it is a wave, the product of a rolling current of air advancing linearly across the sky–occurs elsewhere in the world, the Queensland Morning Glory is its finest example. And little, nowheresville Burketown is the Morning Glory Capital.

Surfing the Morning Glory is just one of the fascinating, warmly written, often humorous accounts you’ll find in The Cloudspotter’s Guide: The Science, History, and Culture of Clouds. Who better to write such a book than Gavin Pretor-Pinney, founder of The Cloud Appreciation Society. A lover and student of clouds since his childhood, the author takes you for a look at clouds from many angles. Working his way up from the atmosphere’s lower levels, he not only provides an excellent, well-organized introduction to cloud nomenclature, including the various species and varieties of each cloud genus, but he also shares personal and informative bits and pieces that render the richness of his subject in an imaginative, often funny, and sometimes off-the-wall manner. Through it all, Gavin’s passion for clouds shines like sun pillars in a sheen of stratocumulus.

In The Cloudspotter’s Guide you’ll revisit the terrifying experience of Lt. Col William Rankin, who in 1959, having jettisoned his crippled aircraft in the midst of a thunderstorm, became a human hailstone and lived to tell the tale.

You’ll also set foot inside the strangest “structure” ever designed–the Blur Building of the 2002 Swiss National Expo, made entirely out of cloud. And you’ll join Gavin in an amusing and educational fantasy trip backstage at a Frankie Lymon concert, as Gavin holds up the event in an effort to explain to the singer why the rain falls from up above.

There’s plenty more to this little book, named one of the Best Books of 2006 by The Economist. I spotted it a few weeks ago on the shelf at Schuler Books & Music while looking for some weather-related reading and decided to give it a try. Good choice. The Cloudspotter’s Guide is a whimsical, informative, and heartfelt read, written in a popular tone that will engage pretty much anyone who has ever looked up at the sky with a sense of childlike wonder and adult curiosity. Weather nerds, stick this one in your library. You’ll reach for it more than once, not just to refresh yourself on cloud nomenclature, but also to remind yourself why you’re doing so.

Sunset at Gun Lake

no images were found

A beautiful day and a warmer day. A day too nice to ignore. That’s what today has been, and the beginning of a warming trend, to boot. The snow has been melting on the balcony, and beneath the slanting, southerly light of a cloudless January sky, the birds were going absolutely nuts at the feeders earlier.

“Let’s take a drive,” I said to Lisa. She has been in the middle of a massive crocheting project, I’ve been sequestered inside my own head with various writing projects and

no images were found

weatherly explorations, and it seemed to me that it would do us both good to pull away for a little while and enjoy the remnant of the day.

So off we went with our cameras to Gun Lake fifteen miles to our south in northern Barry County to watch the sun set. I thought I’d share three of the photos I took there in the state park. Click on them to enlarge them.

The deer was one of three yearlings that were hanging out next to the park drive. They were preoccupied with foraging and appeared completely unconcerned about the tan Buick Century that had pulled up alongside them, or the human on the other side of the driver’s-side window who was busily snapping pictures.

no images were found

The bright orange blob is a parasail, and the guy to its left had just finished with an hour or so of snowboarding out on the frozen lake. As for the sunset, that’s self-explanatory. The one thing unique about it is the vantage point out on the Gun Lake ice, a perspective unavailable to me during the warm season.

With nothing bursting at the seams for me to write about either musically or weatherwise, I figured the photos would offer a pleasant diversion. A little splash of color to brighten a mid-winter day never hurts, right?

Blue Moon on New Year’s Eve

They call it a “blue moon”–a second full moon in the same month. It’s a rare occurrence in itself, but tonight’s blue moon will be all the more unusual because it’s occurring on New Year’s Eve. Now we’re talking about a REALLY rare event–once every 20 years, in fact.

But wait–it gets even better. This blue moon will also undergo a partial eclipse. Don’t get too hopped up about it, though. If you live in the northern hemisphere, you won’t be seeing it. Elsewhere in the world, though, in places far removed from my little old hometown of Caledonia, Michigan, sky watchers will get to witness the whole shebang: a blue moon eclipsing on New Year’s Eve.

Those of us who reside in Michigan, on the other hand, will be lucky if we get to see the moon at all. With snow in the forecast, it’s highly unlikely we’ll get so much as a fleeting glimpse.

Too bad. I was looking forward to seeing a New Year’s Eve blue moon. I hate to think I’ll have to wait another 20 years before I get my next crack at one.

Maybe there’ll be a rift in the clouds, just long enough to offer a quick glance.

My heart is hopeful and my fingers are crossed.

The First Day of Winter

As far as East Coasters are concerned, with 26 inches of snow falling on Long Island in yesterday’s blizzard, winter has already arrived. For that matter, here in Michigan, you’d be hard put to convince anyone otherwise when it comes to the practical sense of the word winter. Look outside and what do you see? Snow, and lots of it. Sure looks like winter to me, and has looked that way for a good month.

But today at 12:57 a.m. EST–less than three hours from now as I write these words–winter will become official. That is the precise minute of the winter solstice, the time when the sun reaches its southernmost position over the Tropic of Capricorn and begins its journey back north. From then on, the slow but steady pilgrimage toward spring will be underway.

In my hometown of Caledonia, according to my sunrise/sunset calendar, the sun rose today at 8:09 a.m. and will set at 5:11 p.m. EST. That gives us nine hours and two minutes of daylight on the shortest day of the year. From this point, we’ll struggle a bit trying to add those extra, tiny increments of daylight. The sun will set a little later each day, but it will also continue to rise a little later for a while, nibbling away another four minutes of dawn until January 7. That’s the day when, after tipping above the horizon at 8:13 a.m. for seven days straight–the sun will finally rise at 8:12. We’ll have added a minute in the morning and, by then, 14 minutes in the evening–a total of 15 minutes. By the end of January, we’ll have gained 58 minutes of  daylight.

Gray and cold though today may be, with a light snow falling steadily outside my deck door, winter solstice is nevertheless a welcome landmark. Its frozen arrival portends the lengthening of light and the certainty of spring. And this one comes with a visit from my brother Patrick, whom I haven’t seen in several years. It’s wonderful to see him; a more welcome Christmas gift I couldn’t ask for.

Whatever the winter brings–and with a strong El Nino in force, it could be a doozy for many–today is the time when the forces that conspire to create snow, ice, and bitter cold begin to lose their logistics. Winter’s batteries may presently be charged to the max, but the countdown to storm season is about to begin.

Major Winter Storm on the Way for the Great Lakes

It starts out as a relatively small, innocuous-looking low straddling the California and Nevada border, but by Wednesday afternoon, look out. It’s no longer out west and it’s no longer meek and mild-mannered. According to

today’s 12Z NAM, it’s perched squarely over Michigan, and with a sea level pressure of 976 mbs at 18Z and continuing to deepen, it’s downright ugly. (Click image to enlarge.)

El Nino, Schmell Nino–we are in for one heck of a Great Lakes bomb. The NWS office here in Grand Rapids is calling for a wintry mix in my area changing to all snow, and nothing but snow starting just a little farther north. Wherever you live in the western Great Lakes, though, Wednesday and Thursday are not going to be pleasant. Get set for a one-two punch of winter precip followed by a windy blast of very cold air wrapping around the back of the low as it tracks northeast into Canada, intensifying on the way.

Time to stock up on supplies. Unless you’re a winter weather freak, Wednesday is not going to be a pretty picture.

Moderate El Nino Firmly Entrenched through the Winter

While a few skeptics will no doubt persist, it now appears certain that the present, moderate El Nino will stay with us through the winter, and possibly even strengthen. Here is what the Climate Prediction Center has to say in its November 23 update:

•  During the last four weeks, positive equatorial SST [sea surface temperature] anomalies persisted across the central and eastern Pacific Ocean.

•  During the last 30 days, equatorial SST anomalies increased in some regions across the eastern half of the Pacific.

•  Nearly all ENSO models indicate El Niño will continue through the Northern Hemisphere winter 2009-10. The models disagree on the eventual strength of El Niño, but a majority indicate at least a moderate strength El Niño (greater than +1.0°C) through December-January-February 2009-10.

•  A majority of ENSO models indicate El Niño will continue through March-April-May 2010.

All of the above adds up to the fact that the western Great Lakes region is in for a mild winter. Those of us in Michigan who remember last year’s 200-inch snowfall and bone-freezing cold will welcome the above-average temperatures and below-average precipitation.

The South will also be seeing relief, albeit in a different but no less welcome form. Average to cooler temperatures and above-average precipitation will bring relief to at least some of the areas blasted by last year’s severe drought. Texas looks to be a major beneficiary.

The plenitude of rainfall in store for the southern Gulf Coast and Texas suggests that whatever concerns we may face during next year’s storm season, moisture won’t be one of them. Particularly after last May’s huge letdown, it’s nice to think that in 2010 there ought to be plenty of gas to fuel the convective engine.

Of course, that’s still a long way off. Right now, the best we can do is cross our fingers and hope for no repeats of 2009’s death ridge. I have a hunch that this coming year will be a good one. But first we’ve got a winter to get through, and it’s nice to think this one won’t be as nasty as its predecessor.

Black Ice Alert: Are You Prepared for Winter Driving?

At the time of this post, 29 people have already died as a result of accidents caused by icy roads during a winter that has not yet even begun. The tally for last winter was 477, with Michigan tying for fourth place with Illinois and Pennsylvania, all at 29 fatalities. The worst state for ice-related traffic deaths was Indiana at 50 fatalities.

Not surprisingly, the northern states, particularly the Great Lakes states, are the top offenders. But nowhere in our country is exempt. Last winter’s ice-related death toll for Texas was 19; for Oklahoma, 16; for Arkansas, 13. This year so far, Oregon holds an unenviable first place at six fatalities. And so it goes. The point is, icy roads kill no matter where you are.

They kill because no one expects them to. When we head out the door into a freezing drizzle, the word that comes to mind is “annoying,” not “lethal.” Most of us don’t picture such conditions as something that, ten minutes later, will cause us to spin out on a sheet of black ice and go skidding in front of a tanker on the Interstate. But that’s exactly what will happen this winter to people just like you and me.

Storm chaser Dan Robinson is doing all he can to reduce the number of ice-related road fatalities by heightening public awareness. I pulled all of the above statistics from his superbly crafted and highly informative Icy Road Safety website. You’ll find much more there besides what I’ve shared: icy road warning signs, winter driving tips, and some downright scary videos.

Living in Michigan, I’m more alert to the lethality of slippery roads than someone living in, say, South Carolina. But being alert by no means makes me bulletproof; it just gives me an advantage over someone who isn’t regularly exposed to hazardous winter driving conditions. Dan’s website goes a long way to fill in the knowledge gaps and help us all approach icy roads with the caution they deserve.

I urge you to visit Dan’s site. It’s well written and beautifully executed, and it merits attention. Read through it, equip yourself with its potentially life-saving information, and then send the link to family members and friends. Help spread the word: ice kills, but it doesn’t have to.

The Old Carlton Center Church in Charlton Park

With nothing hot brewing on my mind in the way of jazz, and certainly nothing in the weather other than a beautiful, unseasonably warm day, I thought I’d post a photo from yesterday’s excursion to historic Charlton Park.

For me, this shot of the old Carlton Center Church captures the essence of November: forlorn, empty, bereft of the vivid hues of autumn yet not quite committed to the black and white of winter. November is the month when Mother Nature seems to pause and hold her breath before exhaling her first icy blast.

I took a number of photos of the church. This one is actually the runner-up to another that I’ve selected for my weekend article for Waterland Living, but I kept looking at this image and thinking, “With a little more trimming…” I like it. Hope you do too.

If you want to see a few more shots from Charlton Park, a historic village located on Thornapple Lake between Hastings and Nashville, Michigan, go to my Photos page. The park on this day felt like a ghost town, but that’s November for you.