Contrails spread turn into clouds Host sun devils, then turn to gold No matter which way you look Cloud-like Vs cross the sky The occasional X makes the scene
With my numb, arthritic fingers, I can’t type worth beans these days. I thought I commented to Lavinia, “It’s snowing lightly now,” but auto-mistake changed whatever typo I made on “lightly” to lighting. Lavinia read it as “lightning” and replied that she had only seen “snow lightning” a few times in her life. I replied that I had never seen it. Then Deborah chimed in on snow lightning, as well. As you can see in the above photo, I made snow lightning.
All the confusion about snow lightning occurred because it snowed last night and this morning.
Kitties in the snow
Clear sky in the west at sunset
Vulture watching the Beaver Moon rise. Jupiter looks on.
The moon is 98.3% full tonight. It will be 99.9% full tomorrow night. The official full moon is on Monday when it doesn’t pass the meridian. It will still be 99% full on Tuesday.
Beaver Moon swimming in a sea of clouds. Jupiter looks on.
Beaver Moon in colorful whipped cream clouds. Jupiter looks on.
WordPress reminded me that I’ve been blogging for thirteen years. I think it’s time to retire.
After partly cloudy skies all day, I watched the storm rolling in from the north on my way home. Not long after I got home, heavy rain, lighting, and thunder let loose for about 45 minutes. I did various chores around the house while the storm raged on, but as soon as it let up, I got on my bike and rode in light rain and cold wind under dark clouds that lit up in the southwest as dusk descended.
My two-mile turnaround is a little way past the bridge.
As darkness fell, the moon showed through the clouds.
The clouds looked menacing, hanging over the darkness as I rode home.
By 9:30 AM, clouds had rolled in and covered the sky.
Since an owl was showing interest in the nest last night, I decided it was time to add insulation to the bottom of the nest. I started gathering up everything I needed at 10:00 AM.
Insulation, a board for the bottom, and tools. The bottom of the nest without insulation.
Insulation in the bottom of the nest. The nest with the bottom board to cover the insulation.
There are 8 to 10 inches of mulch and leaves for bedding inside the nest. I got the bottom screwed on at 11:20 AM, just as it started raining. I gathered up my tools and headed inside. The rain was steady until around 3:00 PM. We got 0.22 inches of rain during that time. Enough to get everything wet and muddy.
The sun lit the clouds when I started my ride heading south on the levee this afternoon.
The afterglow at dusk on my way back home, riding south again.†
†On a typical afternoon ride, after I cross the Clearwater ditch, I ride south 2 to 3.5 miles on the levee, turn around, ride 5 to 6.5 miles north on the levee to the flood control channel, turn around, and ride 3 miles south to where I cross the Clearwater ditch to go home.
While taking the above photo of the Sandias in red, I heard a buzzing noise. I turned to see what it was and three paragliders were flying my way.
Moon and contrail at dusk
While I was photographing the moon and contrail, I heard an owl hooting close by. I investigated further and there was an owl perched on the edge of the nest I hung in Susan’s tree in August 2022. Hooteluja! Hooteluja! Hooooteluuuja!
It was dark, and I had to use 15x digital zoom on my phone’s camera, so I couldn’t tell if it was daddy owl. It could be one for the owlets from a few years ago out house shopping. Whichever owl it is, it’s a good sign to see an owl perched on the edge of the nest.