Prepping for Africa: What to Expect--Weather

Packing Central is exploding (my guest bedroom) and I'm getting excited about my upcoming trip to South Africa.   I've been doing some research about what to expect.   One question was about the weather.

Up to the minute weather report:

Photo by maagworld, Dec 2012 on Trip Advisor Reviews of Protea Kruger Gate Hotel where I will stay three nights while going on safari in Kruger National Park.

Time, Unchained

Remember these lyrics from Unchained Melody?

      And time goes by slowly...


The heck it does.  I blink and a month has gone by, as a friend said.

For instance, yesterday I went to Anchorage, a hundred mile drive across and through the mountains and along saltwater Turnagain Arm.  I was on a mission to see my optometrist.  I've noticed a distinct decline in the vision in my right eye and figured that subtle cataract wasn't so subtle any more.

My insurance kicks in to help pay for new glasses every two years, and I was wondering if two years had gone by since my last pair.   So, off I went.

Spectacular day.   Bright, sunny, warm.

That water way down below and in the left center is part of Turnagain Arm.  Just look at that blue sky.

This is the arm, looking towards Anchorage, which is about forty miles away from this spot.  Those are chunks of ice stranded by the out-going tide.

Five hours later,  mission accomplished in the city, I'm once again driving along Turnagain Arm.  The sun is heading for the horizon behind me, while ahead of me waits a dark gray line of weather.

And, an hour later, six hours after I'd driven through this very spot in bright sunshine, I have this:

.

Oh, my mission in Anchorage?  My annual eye exam?   It seems to have been four years ago....

As I said, time flies, but I still like Unchained Melody.

Breaking Light

The storm that whipped through here last night did no damage in this area that I know about, but then I haven't been off my own grounds today.

Anchorage, in particular the mountains that rise above the flats of the city, got hit with winds over 100 mph.  One amateur meteorologist reported a gust of 131 mph.  Trees were knocked down all over town and the power was out to thousands of customers.

The only thing I see different around here are two pots of calendula that are suddenly missing blooms and stems with no trace of them across the gravel drive.  I suspect their disappearance might be related to some fuzzy black and white long-eared critters that have taken a liking to my yard, except they have heretofore not shown any interest in them.

Right in the middle of former president Bill Clinton's speech to the Democratic National Convention, the sun broke through the clouds and put on a rather dramatic display of light.    (There's a political metaphor in there somewhere, but I haven't quite figured it out yet.  It could go either way.)

It also revealed something I am definitely not ready to see.

Here's another view of that same rainbow, showing the other side of the valley.  Notice anything?

If you still haven't figured it out, here's one more:

 

Snow.   New snow.

The crazy neighbor kid up the highway is cheering, hoping we get more of it, dreaming about being up there "shredding" it.  Knowing him, I have no doubt he'll be up there this weekend, doing exactly that.

Crazy kid.

Perfectly Clear

Let me make this perfectly clear:

I am not complaining.

Read my lips:

I. Am. Not. Complaining.

I am not whining, sniveling, or otherwise muttering nasty, deprecatory remarks about the weather.

I hope I've made that clear. At least as clear as the weather has been since....since.....well, it seems like forever, except for summer. There was no clear weather last supposed-to-be-summer-that-wasn't.

But for the past couple weeks, I've been feeding the insatiable maw of my woodstove with chunk after chunk of split spruce and birch, and still the furnace runs almost constantly.

With clear weather in winter comes cold.






This was a few days ago. Don't overlook that thick black bar to the left of the 12.8. That's BELOW zero. Twelve point nine below zero. But I complain not because my nephew in Fairbanks is dealing with forty below, and in Ft. Yukon, where our lone Congressman lives when he's not in Washington, D.C., it was fifty-nine below and dropping.

While I sure would appreciate some moderating temperatures, I never would have seen things like these had the weather been otherwise:




The lights of Mt. Alyeska Ski Resort in Girdwood. I lived there for twelve years and worked at the resort. I pass it on my way home from Anchorage.


Turnagain Arm just past Girdwood. That's ice floating on the water. My drive takes me all the way down the mountains on the left to the farthest ones you can see. Then it turns right and climbs into the mountains on the right.



Almost home.

This was mid-afternoon today as I drove into Moose Pass.




And this photo of the moon was taken in the same spot.

But the best part of "perfectly clear" came this evening. Well, a little later than evening--say around 9:30 to 10:30.




A full moon over my house.




And the lunar eclipse begins. A triple whammy: total eclipse, solar and winter solstice, and the closest full moon of the year. If I were superstitious...



Right about here was when I noticed a thin veil of clouds in front of the moon, barely visible to the naked eye. Just enough to keep these shots from also being perfectly clear.



That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.



I'm sure it had nothing at all to do with the temperature being zero and heading south.






And me standing outside with bare hands. Nothing at all.



So I'm posting them anyway.