by CKR
I spent most of the last week under that bubble of Arctic air that’s keeping things cold from the northern plains to the northeast. Minus fourteen it was when I got in the rental car Sunday morning to leave. I had been worried, but the car started. Then I realized that driving two hours on Sunday morning before the sun came up in that kind of cold could be life-threatening. There was more traffic than I expected, so someone would have come to my rescue if necessary, but I was glad to turn the rental car in at the warm airport.
As I was driving, I could see snow coming down while the stars were visible. I saw something similar during snow-shoveling bouts here: perfectly clear blue skies with tiny flakes emerging. Here’s an explanation from a meterologist.
As I drove, it didn’t seem to be blowing snow; it was definitely coming down rather than across. The clouds above were very thin. I’ve seen snow from a blue sky here in New Mexico many times. I’ve also seen tiny clouds turn themselves inside out in a small snow shower. I’ve wondered if sometimes, too, the snow doesn’t condense just from moist but not cloudy air.
Roadrunner Report: My neighbor fed the roadrunner while I was away. (Thank you, Jim!) There was a little suet left in the plate, which I take to mean that the roadrunner was still coming for food. I got a glimpse of her the day before I left.
The temperature has been in the fifties the past couple of days (apologies to those under that Arctic bubble!), and higher temperatures seem to mean fewer roadrunner sightings. But before I left and since I’ve been home, I hear a continuing series of coos throughout the day. This may mean that the roadrunner is a male and is trying to coax females into his territory. He may be singing the praises of that suet.
It’s not too early for pairing-up to start around here. I’ve been told that the aerobatics I see crows flying is part of their negotiations.