Reading the Weather Part 2

If it doesn't conditions are abnormal and chances are that mischief is brewing. This ebb and flow of warmer and cooler air is, on a small scale, exactly what is happening on a vastly larger field of operations between cyclone and anticyclone. And it is the dominance of the anticyclone with its prolonged rush of air from the northwest that interrupts the sea breeze for two or three days in winter, as the cyclone prevents the night land breeze from taking place when it is central off the eastern coast.

The exchange of air between mountain side and valley is similar to the land-and-sea breeze. The rarer air on the mountain side heats faster by day and cools faster by night than the denser air in the valley. Therefore during the day it rises and the valley air rushes up to take its place; during the night it cools and sinks into the valley. This is a great help when one is shut up in a secluded valley for several days and cannot get a good view of the skies. The atmosphere is acting properly and will remain settled so long as the air blows up your ravine for most of the day, and turns about sundown and blows out and down the ravine like a flood of refres.h.i.+ng water.

Of course many valleys are so large as to be affected, not by these local causes, but by the larger movements of the anticyclones when the sure-clear west wind may blow up the valley for three days at a time. But, nevertheless, for most mountainous places the logic holds and you may expect rain if the wind does not blow coolly down the ravine at night. Of course watch your clouds for confirmation.

In times of calm prepare for storm. An eminent meteorologist has frowned upon me for saying that. It is not the whole truth, I admit, but there is a certain kind of calm which happens often enough to justify the remark. It happens this way. A severe storm has pa.s.sed. The customary anticyclone with its brisk northwest winds has arrived and is blowing with all the vigor necessary to induce one to believe that the clear weather is to continue for the usual length of time; that is, three or four days. But suddenly in the early afternoon, just when it should be blowing its hardest, the wind drops, lulls, shows a tendency to change its direction. There is only one explanation. Another cyclone has developed off in the west. It has knocked the anticyclone on the flank, taken the teeth out of the gale.

The wind shows this before clouds can. The absence of wind when there ought to be a lot shows it before even the first cirrus swims overhead. The chance is that when the flow of anticyclonic air has been thus rudely cut off and stillness follows, it will be storming by morning. It is best to keep an eye on these abnormal, precipitous calms. In times of peace prepare for rain.

But the eminent meteorologist was eminently right when he said that the statement was misleading unless explained. For there are many kinds of calms that do not portend coming storms. Nearly every day, winter and summer, but particularly in summer, the wind drops to a calm at sunset. That is a time of adjustment. After sunset when the accounts are all in the wind springs up with as much force as it had in the afternoon and continues until dawn. At sunrise, however, there is another truce. If this truce is neglected either at sunrise or at sunset it is a sign that either a cyclone on an anticyclone is very much in the ascendency. These truces are most often observed at the seash.o.r.e when you are out sailing and the smell of supper fills your nostrils but is not sufficient to fill your sails. These calms are normal and the best sign of a fair day on the morrow, provided the other signs agree.

During the great transition period from summer to winter comes that autumnal truce, Indian Summer, which is the chief claim to fame of American weather. For day after day a brooding haze sleeps in the air, sometimes for weeks there is no wind of any strength. Winter advances insidiously in the fall but retreats in commotion, and the cooling off process permits of these still days while they are uncommon in the spring. The wind checks off more mileage in March than in any other month.

While the regular day's end calm and the calm of the year's exhaustion mean continued fair weather, there is one calm that everybody knows, which is the most dramatic moment in the whole repertory of the weather: the foreboding, ten-count wait before the knockout blow of the thunderstorm. But when that calm comes every one is already sitting tight so that it is not much account as a warning. They say that the intense stillness before the hurricane strikes is uncanny.

Whether insh.o.r.e or afloat the wind is to be watched if you would know what weather is to be. It is only another of Nature's paradoxes that the most unstable element should be the most reliable guide of all on the uncertain trail of the next day's weather.

TEMPERATURES.

Considering that the temperature of the sun is 14,072 degrees Fahrenheit and the temperature of s.p.a.ce is absolute zero, 459 degrees below ours, we do very well on earth to be as comfortable as we are.

And we owe it all to the atmosphere which keeps the sun from concentrating upon us. Our place in the sun is so very small that we intercept only one-half of one billionth of the heat which it is giving off night and day. But that is sufficient to do a lot of damage if it could get at us.

But even the paltry range of temperatures so far recorded on our planet,--from 134 degrees above zero one day in California, to 90 degrees below zero one night in Siberia,--is by no means a fair statement of the extremes we are called upon to bear. Only twice a decade in our country does the mercury vary as much as sixty degrees in twenty-four hours, and there are vast areas where the daily change amounts to only a few degrees.

The changes that do come so suddenly to us, particularly in winter and that are known as cold waves, are in reality beneficial. To them we Americans may owe our energy, our vivacity, our changeability of mood. The refrigerated, revivified air sweeping down from the north is tonic. It is heavy, and issuing from antiseptic alt.i.tudes, drives the humid, germ-nursing air from our city streets. If we had arranged a process of refreshment like this at vast expense we should have been intensely proud of it. As it is we are intensely annoyed at it and occasionally a few people are frozen to death. The Weather Bureau warnings and the coal clubs are reducing the loss in property and lives.

If you are sleeping out it is of great importance to know when the mercury is going to take one of these swoops, for sleeping cold means little real rest because one's muscles are tense, and the next day's packing needs all the relaxation one can get. Two generalizations govern pretty much every change of temperature: the mercury will rise before a storm and it will fall after one, winter and summer, but much more conspicuously in winter.

There are two reasons for this. Our cyclones usually cross our country over such a northern track that over most of the country the air drawn into them comes from the southern quarters and is therefore warmer than the air previously flowing from the anticyclone. Also the process of precipitation causes heat. This is true to such an extent on the coast of Ireland where it rains most of the time that a scientist has computed that the inhabitants get from one-third to one-half as much heat from the rainfall as they do directly from the sun. Thus a normal storm is doubly sure to warm up the environment.

In summer the reverse is partially true, for very often the rain does not begin until the actual center of depression has pa.s.sed and the west winds have begun to exercise their cooling influence. So that in summer we have a sultry, sunny day as the first half of the storm area and then a cooling shower. Also after two or three days of warm weather in spring and autumn we have a rainstorm of the winter type which lowers the temperature instead of raising it. This is because the heat produced by the storm is less than that of the sun's rays intercepted by the clouds. The clear skies of the preceding anticyclone had permitted the land to warm up very fast under the midsummer sun, and the clouds of the cyclone, by cutting off the supply, had made a relative chill.

In winter the sunrays are so much feebler because of their slant and radiation proceeds so rapidly under the dry air of the anticyclone that a much greater degree of cold is produced than when the cyclonic clouds prevent the radiation. Therefore the rainy area is the warmest of all. Even in summer the winds from the southeast, south, and southwest are warmer than those from the opposite quarters, not only because they blow from a quarter naturally warmer on account of the sun, but because they are surface winds and have absorbed some of the heat from the soil. Being denser, they absorb it more readily and hold it longer.

The change, then, from the period of fair weather to that of storm brings an increase of temperature. But the rate of increase varies. The faster the storm is approaching the faster the temperature will rise; and the route of the storm's center makes all the difference as to the amount of the rise. If the wind s.h.i.+fts by way of the north and holds in the northeast until precipitation begins the rise in temperature will be very slight. The great snowstorms of the northern half of the country occur under just such a circ.u.mstance. If the wind s.h.i.+fts by way of the north but gets around to the east or even southeast before the precipitation starts the rise in temperature will be more p.r.o.nounced, as much as thirty degrees sometimes in a few hours, and the winter storm that started in as snow soon changes to sleet and rain.

If the wind s.h.i.+fts by way of the south and then into the southeast the rise will be vigorous and the storm will likely be a comparatively warm rain. If the wind s.h.i.+fts only so far as the south the rise will be highest of all and blue sky will often appear between the showers, showing that the air is heated to a considerable height.

The progress of the temperature changes from the maximum of the cyclonic area to the minimum of the anticyclone is also dependent upon the wind. If the storm center is pa.s.sing south and the wind begins to pull into the northeast and north the temperature will fall steadily and slowly. The rain or snow often cease gradually by the time the wind has reached the north, but the temperature continues to fall slowly until it reaches very low levels in mid-winter. If the storm center is pa.s.sing north of you the wind which has brought most of the rain while it was in the southeast with comparatively high temperatures swings into the southwest, the temperature falls somewhat.

There is usually a final downpour and a rapid s.h.i.+ft of the wind into the west or northwest, but almost never directly into the north. The temperature falls several degrees in a few minutes, quite unlike the gradual decline of the northeast-by-north s.h.i.+ft, and clear skies come at once with rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng temperatures. In the vicinity of Philadelphia a fall of twenty-five degrees would be most unusual on the northeast s.h.i.+ft,--such storms reaching 38 degrees and falling to 15, while with the other s.h.i.+ft a fall from 55 degrees to 15 would not be unusual. Of course any one set of figures given could only show the tendency and not the rule or limits.

After the manner of the wind-s.h.i.+ft the intensity of the storm is a good gauge of the temperature change to be expected by the camper. As a rule the greater the intensity of the storm the greater will be the degree of cold that follows it. The storms that have a complete wind circulation about them are always more severe than those with incomplete circulation and are invariably followed up by some reduction in temperature. If the decrease is not proportionately great and the subsequent wind has only a moderate clearing quality look out for another cyclone.

In such a case the temperature is the best witness of the contemplated change. For instance, after a summer thunderstorm a decided coolness is de rigeur. If this does not occur it means nearly every time that there is another thunderstorm in process of construction. There may be not a cloud in the sky, there may be no wind (although there should be) so that the course of the thermometer is the only means of telling what is to be the next event. Anybody can take a thermometer with him although a barometer--the most accurate forecaster of all--may be thought too much expense and bother.

At some future date the Weather Bureau will be able to predict the temperature of seasons in advance. This, together with the amount of rain scheduled to fall, will be an invaluable aid to everybody and to the farmers most of all. At present mild seasons that have severe storms without the appropriate degree of cold after them cannot be entirely explained, let alone being prediscovered. They all hinge upon the more or less permanent areas of high and low air pressure over the oceans and international meteorological service has not progressed far enough to support many ocean stations as yet.

Sometimes clear weather may intensify, growing brighter, stiller, colder. This is because the pressure is increasing. Cold seasons are distinguished usually by a succession of anticyclones. There is no way of telling how long a certain spell of cold weather is to last, but I have noticed that the same characteristics rarely predominate for longer than a month at a time. In other words, if December has been warm and rainy, January will likely be cold and dry. Of course, that is precisely the unscientific sort of generalization which the Bureau very rightly frowns upon, but which one may nurse privately until science has provided a subst.i.tute as she already has in so many instances.

With a little practice it is an easy matter to estimate the temperature to within a very few degrees. Try guessing for a few mornings and then look at the thermometer. You will hit within three degrees every time after a week of this.

Allowance must be made for the amount of moisture in the air and for the force of the wind. Damp air feels colder by several degrees than crisp, dry air, and a breeze increases the difference still more. Air in motion is not necessarily colder than calm air. As a matter of fact the lowest temperatures of all are recorded about sunrise after a still, clear night. The amount of radiation accomplished during the last hours of the night is amazing, and the downward impetus of the thermometer is often carried on for an hour or more after the sun has appeared above the horizon. A self-recording thermometer is an amusing toy which will show this and becomes a valuable instrument if one raises fruit.

In winter three o'clock of an afternoon sees the highest temperature usually, and in summer this maximum occurs as late as half-past five, due to the fact that the sun can pour in its heat faster than the earth can radiate it off. For the half hour before and after sunset, particularly in winter, the loss of heat is relatively greatest; then the pace slackens till three or four in the morning, when the plunge of the mercury is accelerated until the rays of the rising sun counteract the radiation.

If the mercury does not rise appreciably on a clear winter's day it is a sign that a cold wave is stealing in, due, doubtless, to a gradual increase in pressure without its customary bl.u.s.ter. Very often snow flurries predict its approach, but this may be so gradual that only the restriction of the daily thermal rise may indicate it. By the next morning the temperature will likely be twenty degrees colder.

If the mercury does not fall on a clear winter's night it is a sign that a layer of moist air not far above the surface of the earth is checking the normal night radiation. Unsettled weather is almost sure to follow unless this wet blanket is itself dissipated and the mercury takes its customary tumble before morning.

If the temperature falls while the sky is still covered with clouds clearing, possibly after a little precipitation, will soon follow.

Hot waves approach insidiously. A night will not cool off as it properly should, the sun will rise coppery, and while the day is yet young everybody begins to realize that all is not exactly right. But the heat increases usually for several days, not only by reason of steadily lowering pressure, but also by acc.u.mulation. Finally when a climax is reached it departs abruptly on the toe of a thunderstorm.

A cold wave reverses the process. It arrives abruptly on the heels of a departing cyclone and, after losing power, steals away without any commotion whatever. Its rate of progress is in close relation to the cyclone ahead of it.

Our mountains play a great part in our weather. They are a right arm of Providence to our agricultural communities. Due to their north and south trend a cold wave of any severity reaches the Pacific Coast only once a generation. Just once has snow been observed to fall at San Diego and it is so rare south of San Francisco that many people never have seen a flake. East of the mountains the belt of desert makes natural crops impossible for a thousand miles, but if they crossed the continent all the territory north of them would have such a cold climate that none of the present enormous crops of Canada and our northern states could possibly be grown. It is also due to the wide insweep of winds from the Gulf that the plains states are so well watered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: c.u.mULUS.

Courtesy of Richard F. Warren.

The tops of c.u.mulus are irregular, looking like wool-packs; the bases are flat. The true c.u.mulus shows a sharp outline all the way round. Its shape is in constant change due to the strong winds it is encountering. It is caused by the swift uprush of warm air on a sunny day. This cloud is a sign of fair weather, because the base is not large, compact, or dark enough to threaten rain and its comrades are also disjointed. If the c.u.mulus grow darker toward the horizon and increase toward evening a squall is likely.]

In lesser fas.h.i.+on the Appalachians protect the Atlantic seaboard. They withstand the impact of the cold waves to a great extent, although they are not high enough to divert the flow of cold air entirely toward the south and it is not desirable that they should. As things are the cold strikes Alabama before it hits New Jersey, and is often more severe there.

Comparative cold is often registered by the green color of the sky. A fiery red continues the prevailing heat.

The day that is ushered in by a fog, in summer, will likely be warm, providing the fog lifts by ten o'clock.

The temperature of a night with even a thin covering of clouds will be a good deal higher than if the sky is clear. In the British Isles the whole difference between freezing and no freezing lies with the fairness of the heavens. Everywhere frost will not form while the sky is covered, although the temperature may be below the freezing point. In summer radiation on a still clear night may be so rapid that frost may follow a temperature of fifty degrees at nightfall.

The temperature at the surface of the earth may easily deceive, as a colder or warmer stratum of air may overlie that immediately next to the ground. I have seen water particles fall when the temperature was as low as 16 degrees above zero, showing that the stratum of cold air was very thin. Our sleet storms in which immense damage is done to trees and telegraph wires occurs from just such a situation,--a cold, shallow layer of air close to the earth, with the warm moisture-bearing air flowing over it. The reverse of this situation is not uncommon--the sight of a snowstorm proceeding merrily along with the ground temperature at 35 or even 40 degrees.

Coming warmth may be noticed by the increase in size of snow flakes, with finally hail and rain. Coming cold is foreshadowed by hail mixed with the rain and lastly snow flakes which have a tendency to decrease in size. Colors of the clouds predict temperature changes, but it takes much practice to distinguish the cold, hard grays from the soft, warm ones. A warm sky is always less uniform in color than a cold one. The colors of winter sunsets are, as a rule, much brighter than those of summer skies.

The stars seem brighter on a night that is to be cold. If they twinkle it is because of rus.h.i.+ng air currents, and if the wind is from the northwest the result may be a subsequent lowering of temperatures.

The whole question of whether it will be colder and how much is vital to the camper and if the signs of change are taken along with the look of the clouds and the direction of the wind he need never be wrong as to the direction the mercury is going, and will soon be able to guess the distance pretty fairly.

RAIN AND SNOW.

East of the Mississippi River rain falls with the utmost impartiality upon every locality. Thirty to fifty inches are delivered at intervals of three or four days throughout the year. And if there is a slight irregularity in delivery one can be sure that from 125 to 150 of the 365 days will be rainy. Occasionally there is a more or less serious hold up of supplies, but this rarely happens in the spring of the year and never happens to all sections at once. And if there is a desire to make amends for the drought, we have what we call a flood and blame it on the weather instead of on our precipitous denudation of the watersheds.

West of the Mississippi particular people have to go to particular places for their rain. If they like a lot of it they must go to the coast districts of Was.h.i.+ngton or Oregon where they can have it almost every day. It rains a good deal at Eastport, Maine,--about 45 inches a year; that is, nearly an inch a week,--but at Neal Bay, Was.h.i.+ngton, at about the same lat.i.tude, in one year it rained 140 inches, and it never stops short of 100 inches any year.

On the other hand, if the Was.h.i.+ngton people are tired of it they need only escape to Arizona where it rains about two inches a year, and they can live in an enterprising hotel down there whose manager believes that it pays to advertise the sun. He guarantees to provide free board on every day that the sun doesn't s.h.i.+ne.

In the plateau section enough snow falls every year to store up enough water for irrigation purposes, and the little rain that falls arrives in just the right season to do the most good, the spring. In California what the farmers lose in amount they make up in the regularity of its arrival.

North of the Ohio River most of the precipitation from November to April is snow. About 50 inches of it falls on the average over this tremendous territory. And it is more useful than rain,--the handy blanket that makes lumber-hauling easy, that keeps the ground from freezing to Arctic depths, that fertilizes the soil, and that acts as a great reservoir, holding over the meat and drink of the vegetable kingdom till the thirsty time arrives. In upper Michigan and Maine the average depth becomes 100 inches. Averages are very misleading when snowfall is being considered, some winters producing very scanty amounts and others heaping it on to the depth of 185 inches once at North Volney, New York.

South of the Ohio the depth varies from substantial amounts in some winters to almost nothing in others. Snow has been observed, however, in every part of our country except the extreme southern tip of Florida. Once and only once on the records a great three-day snowstorm visited all of southern California, extending to the Mexican border and to the coast.

The strip of country between the parallels of New York City and Richmond comprises the section wherein each winter storm is one large guess as to whether the precipitation is to be snow or rain. A compromise is usually affected in this way. Before the clouding up began the mercury may have stood at ten degrees below zero. As soon as the wind acquired an easterly slant the temperature increased. As it neared the freezing point the snow would begin, first in flakes of medium size which would enlarge until after a particularly heavy fall of a few minutes they would at once almost cease. Hail soon would succeed, the mercury still rising, and often the hail would have turned to rain before the freezing point of the air of the immediate surface of the earth had been reached, turning the snow already on the ground to slush and making a holiday for germs.

One can always tell when this change to warmer is about to occur because the clouds which have been part and parcel with the obscuring snow suddenly show, not lighter but darker. The sudden increase in size of the flakes is another infallible symptom of increasing warmth in the atmosphere for each large flake is a compound of many smaller ones. When the temperature is low the flakes are very small, being grains and spicules in the severe blizzards of the west and falling as snow-dust in the Arctic. In the heavy storms of the guessing-belt the flakes are not necessarily small.

I have noticed (in the lat.i.tude of Philadelphia) that our largest storms begin very leisurely indeed with small and regular-sized flakes. A quarter of an inch may not fall in the first hour. As the center nears the snow comes ever faster and larger, but not large, flakes are mixed with the original-sized flakes. Snow dust is apparent. At the height of the storm flakes of all sizes except the very large are falling, denoting great activity in the strata of air within the storm influence. In the ordinary storm an acc.u.mulation at the rate of an inch an hour denotes a storm of considerable intensity.

The snow will likely keep on falling as long as the flakes are irregular in size. If they grow large and few or very small a cessation is likely, even though the wind is still blowing from an easterly quarter. The amount of snow likely to fall can be gauged not only by the process of flake-change but by the rate at which the wind rises. A storm's intensity is measured by the amount of wind. A storm can be a storm without a drop of rain or flake of snow if only there be enough wind. And as long as the wind in a snowstorm keeps rising the storm is likely to go on, probably increasing in volume of precipitation.

If the wind shows a tendency to edge around to the southeast there is danger of the snow turning to rain; if the wind veers slowly to the northeast the temperature will fall slowly and the rate of precipitation will likely increase for a while. In such instances the snow does not continue to fall after the wind has swung west of north. Often clearing takes place with the wind still in the north or even a point east of north.

Contrary to superst.i.tion snow may begin to fall at any hour of the day or night. But certain hours seem more propitious than others, owing no doubt to the tendency of cooling air to condense. Three o'clock of an afternoon and eight o'clock in the morning are favorite times, the one being the hour of a winter afternoon when cooling is begun, the other the hour when the coldest time is reached and condensation likely if at all. Of course, one remembers storms beginning at nine, ten, eleven, and every other hour.

Storms that begin in the morning seldom reach much activity before three o'clock in the afternoon, while those that begin then quickly increase in intensity as evening draws near and the sun's warmth is withdrawn from the upper air-strata. More snow falls at night than in the daytime, also. Snow is more delicate than rain and perhaps more responsive than rain to the subtle changes of the atmosphere. Possibly there is no ground on the Bureau records for these ideas, possibly storms have a tendency to start from the Gulf on their northeastward journey and so reach Philadelphia oftener at one time than another. I would like my notions confirmed that snowstorms increase at nightfall, and that they prefer to start operations at sunrise and about sunset.

For the camper the snowstorm need have no terrors. It gives a long warning of its approach. It comes mostly without destructive winds. Its upholstery protects and warms the walls of one's tent. It adds beauty to the leafless woods, interest to the trailer, and a hundred amus.e.m.e.nts among the hills.

But the value of snowy weather is not only measured by its beauties and commercial uses. There is another way: make it read character for you. Watch the reactions toward the first snowfall of half a dozen kinds of people. It will show you what they are; give you a very fair measure of their youth.

Our atmosphere contains a lot of moisture that never gets precipitated. You can prove this on any warm day by noticing the way the atmosphere acts toward a gla.s.s of ice-water. When the air of the room is much warmer than the surface of the gla.s.s it surrenders its moisture w.i.l.l.y nilly. Sometimes this condensation is enough to cause a miniature rainstorm that trickles down the outside of the tumbler. If a small cold surface can wring so much water out of a little air it is small wonder that we get an inch or so of rain from vast currents of air at unequal temperatures.

Try to visualize the process. A stream of vapor has been warmed and is ascending. A mile up and it has cooled not only by the reason of alt.i.tude but also by the process itself. About each little dust-particle in the surrounding area vapor forms--vapor cannot form without something to form on, there being always enough dust from deserts and volcanoes to go round. If the cooling proceeds the tiny globules enlarge and as they increase in weight they settle and fall. Falling, they unite with others.

If the air-strata are very warm and thick the drops may grow to a very considerable size. We see these in the middle of our great winter rains when the insweep of southern winds with all their warmth and moisture is very extensive. Also the first few drops that come from the thick, hot lips of the thundercloud are usually immense.

The best way to measure the size of a raindrop is to have it fall in a box of dry sand. It rolls up the sand and measurements can be easily and accurately made. But the most interesting way is to let the first drops of the thunderstorm fall upon a sheet of blotting paper. If the same sort of blotting paper is used the measurements will be of just as much importance for comparison. Circles as big as teacups are formed sometimes.

Heavy drops in winter mean a heavy fall, because they denote high temperatures which are uncommon and are bound to be followed by considerable condensation as the cooling proceeds back to normal temperatures. Small drops in summer mean either cooler weather, or sudden condensation. Small drops in winter are a sign of very thin moisture-bearing strata, or low temperatures, indicating that the rain will be light, protracted, and liable to change to snow.

Hail is frozen rain. Winter hail is small and harmless and rarely falls to any depth because the exact temperatures that bring forth the hail rarely continue for very long at a time. Hail in winter is merely the stepping stone to either rain or snow. But in summer hail is a serious matter. It shows that there is a violent disturbance of the atmosphere in progress. Vertical air currents, probably abetted by electricity,--the authorities are not sure--often carry the stones up several times. They take on layer after layer, coalesce, and sometimes fall the size of eggs, apples, or any other fruit, barring melons. The usual summer hail does not exceed the size of a robin's egg. Even a projectile of that size, however, falling for a half mile or more has a tremendous destructive power. Greenhouses suffer, birds are killed, cattle stunned, and loss of life has been known to follow. In August in 1851 in New Hamps.h.i.+re hailstones fell to the weight of 18 ounces, diameter 4 inches, circ.u.mference 12 inches. In Pittsburgh stones weighing a full pound have crashed down, and in Europe where many destructive storms have occurred there are official records of even greater phenomena. The lightning accompanying these hailstones is usually very severe. A flake or ball of snow forms the nucleus of a hailstone.

If a thundercloud looks particularly black or if it can be seen in commotion think of hail and seek shelter. It is pretty difficult to predict exactly when hail is going to fall in summer. It is a possibility with every large storm, but a probability with only a very few during the summer. It accompanies tornadoes.

In winter hail falls before a rainstorm, even when the ground temperature precludes the possibility of snow; some lingering stratum of cold air has ensnared the drops on their way down.

Snow is not frozen rain. It has an origin of its own. It is born in a temperature consistently below freezing and on the condensation of the invisible moisture becomes visible as a tiny crystal. These infinitesimal crystals unite and form larger, hexagonal shapes, elongated or starry. They are wafted along, sinking, all slightly differing one from another, although forming a few types. These types have been photographed and catalogued and very often the alt.i.tude from which the snow is coming may be learned from their shape and design. But this branch of science is young yet and confusing and the outdoor man has surer signs of the vicissitudes of the storm, in the general size of the flakes, the power and direction of the wind, the clouds and temperature. The possibilities of flake-study as a means of forecasting are many and of value as is anything that tends to unveil the secrets of the greater heights.

Snowflakes are so light that after the storm processes are over and the sun has come out the residue may still float lazily to the ground.

The wild disorder of the snow flurry will only last a few minutes and never leave much snow on the ground.

Snowstorms that come on the wings of the west wind may be severe, but they will be short. They are unusual in the east, but sometimes the heaviest snows of the western states come on the sudden cooling that follows the s.h.i.+ft to west.

Snowstorms arriving on a high wind last only a few hours.

Snowstorms that are long in gathering and increase to considerable intensity continue a long while.

Those that follow a sudden clouding up are of no importance.

The snowstorms that leave on a high wind from the west or northwest are followed by a cold wave. Those that continue after the storm wind has died away are succeeded by calm, clear, and usually warmer weather.

In northern districts a snowstorm may be looked for after a period of cold weather. In middle districts if the cold has been severe the reaction to warmer may bring rain instead. In such cases generalities are of no use, and the possibilities must be determined by the man on the spot. The best conditions for snow through the middle districts are occasioned by an area of low-pressure with its attendant precipitation crossing the southern half of the country while the northern half is under the influence of an area of high-pressure with its attendant frigidity. The cold air flows into the southern storm with the result that the middle districts get the northern quadrants of the storm which are the usual snow-bearing ones instead of the southern rain-bearing quadrants that they would have got if the center of the storm had pursued its usual course up the Ohio and down the St. Lawrence.

If the storm has two centers, one over Texas and the other over Montana, as is so frequently the case in winter, the subsequent high pressure will come too late to affect the temperature of the zone of precipitation and the latter will likely be rain in the middle districts. Sometimes the cyclones cross the country on the Canadian border and enough warm air is sucked over the line to give the inhabitants of Montreal a thaw and rain. This happens to them only once or twice a winter. And even more rarely a cyclone over the Gulf with an anticyclone above it will give the Gulf States a taste of winter, but rarely more than a few flakes.

It really all depends on the influx of air, its rate and direction. It rains in Alaska and snows in Georgia on the same day merely because at one place the air is coming off the Pacific, and at the other it is flowing from the center of a refrigerated continent.

And the progress of these storms is one of Nature's greatest poems if you take a minute to think of them sweeping on in majesty, the one thing that man cannot control. Even the snow which is the citizens' curse as well as the farmers' blessing becomes epic when it beleaguers an empire for half a year.

DEW AND FROST.

The very process that made the tumbler of ice-water sweat on the hot day causes dew. And the formation of frost is a.n.a.logous to that of snow. Frost is not frozen dew, but the formation of moisture crystals at the temperature of 32 or below. Frost or dew form only on still, cloudless nights. Even if no clouds are visible, neither will form if a stratum of humid air has prevented radiation. Hence either dew or frost is a fairly good sign of clear weather.

Three white frosts on successive mornings are followed by a rain. This saying holds water not because there is any virtue in frost to cause rain, but because a storm is normally due once a week. The frosts did not form when the anticyclonic winds were blowing and usually not more than three mornings elapse between the time that the anticyclone has lost its influence and the time for the next cyclone to appear. Frost indicates a considerable amount of moisture in the atmosphere, also, which tends to increase as the cyclone approaches.

The heaviest dews come in late summer and the heaviest frosts in mid-autumn because the change in temperature is greatest then and there is a greater chance that there will be a calm at sunrise. The greatest frost damage occurs in the spring because the tenderer crops are growing then. Summer frosts used to occur in the northern parts of Minnesota and along the southern boundaries of the inland Canadian provinces before the forests were cleared off. The march of civilization has actually pushed back the frost line some distance.

Frost may occur when the amount of humidity in the air is low and the barometer rising at any temperature under 50 degrees at nightfall, the clear skies permitting radiation enough under those circ.u.mstances to produce the necessary cooling. An evening temperature of 40 degrees with the clear skies and faint west breeze will almost surely produce a frost, provided the wind drops. In such circ.u.mstances the only hope for the farmer is that there is enough humidity in the air to cause a fog before the frost-point is reached. A temperature touching 34 degrees would not bring frost, however, if the sky was at all overcast. Frost is difficult to predict because a night s.h.i.+ft in the wind, cloudiness that forms after midnight, or even a wind arising before the coolest period at dawn will prevent its formation. On the other hand, clouds may disperse, the wind may fall or radiation may be so rapid before sunrise as to cause a killing frost unawares. The farmer who lives in areas disputed by winter and spring may never be quite sure, but precautions should be taken on the still, clear, dry nights with the thermometer at fifty or below.

Fruit-growers resort to fires or to coverings to protect their crops. The fires are particularly worth while, not so much for their heat which at best cannot be expected to warm up the great outdoors much, but for the smoke which prevents radiation. A line of smudges such as campers use to ward off the mosquito would spread a pall of smoke over an orchard efficaciously. A snowstorm, the soft fluffy sort that falls in April or May, can do much less damage to vegetation than a severe frost.

Temperatures are much lower on the ground than even six feet above the gra.s.s. Naturally these temperatures are those that really influence most vegetation and in England temperatures on the gra.s.s are given in the weather report with the ordinary observations, being as much as six or eight degrees lower on clear nights.

In some of the hot, dry countries, such as Arabia and Egypt, most of the moisture that they receive falls in the form of dew. Falls, of course, is a loose expression as the dew forms and does not fall, being different from the minute particles of fog. The fog particles in suspension in the air are estimated to be as small as 1-180th of an inch. When they grow to 1-80th of an inch in diameter they commence to fall. Fogs are chiefly caused by the soil being warmer than the air above it; the vapor on rising condenses and becomes visible. In the spring and fall currents of air blow over rivers at different temperatures and the result is a fog. One does not have a fog in the desert.

There are places in the ocean with cold and warm currents with the air above them correspondingly different where fog is of almost constant occurrence. The Gulf Stream off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland has a temperature of 78 degrees, while the water on the Banks is 45 degrees so that fogless days are rare along the line of meeting.

Frost is known in every part of our country, many localities in the plateau section being exposed to it every month of the year. The thin air and cloudless skies of the alt.i.tudes make radiation very easy and the daily variation of temperature is much wider than along the humid coasts. Those who have never looked into frost conditions throughout our country will be surprised to read the warnings of the Weather Bureau.

From the station at Pensacola, Florida (frost-proof Florida!), comes this statement: "Vegetables are subject to damage by frost during all seasons of the year."

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, "Frost is likely to damage fruit or other crops in May and September."

Phoenix, Arizona, "Frost is likely to do damage in December, February, and March."

Baker City, Oregon, "Fruit and other crops are most liable to damage by frost in April, May, June, September, and October."

Kalispell, Montana, "Frost damage for fruit, May 15th to July 10th; for grain, June 25th to August 1st."