Thursday, May 22, 2008

Invisible Snow?

Current Conditions
Temperature: -26F
Wind Chill: -39F

I had a dream the other night that I saw a spider. I was so excited. I have no real fear of spiders, but I don't generally enjoy one crawling all over my hand and arm like I did in the dream. I was just so amazed to see it that intrigue shadowed discomfort. It's something I've been aware of during my time here, but the point hadn't yet been driven home like this. Aside from people, THERE IS NOT A LIVING THING ON THIS ISLAND!! Sure, there was the occasional skua, and for some, penguins and seals. But those intelligent creatures have left this forsaken place in its dark wintertime, leaving only us that hope a plane will eventually come to take us away. There are no budding trees, no squawking jays, no whistling grasses, no purring pets, not even a single buzzing bug. I've been to arid deserts without trees, concrete jungles without jays, cobblestone beaches without grasses, homes without pets, but no bugs? NO BUGS??!! It seems absurd.

Katie found a beetle in the produce that came down on the last flight. It was fascinating, for no other reason than I hadn't seen one in six months. She tried to keep it alive on lettuce and water, but it only lasted a week or two. Perhaps it preferred aphids. Sorry, none of those here.

Another thing I miss that you folks in the northern hemisphere are probably taking for granted this time of year is rain, or even just the natural sound of flowing water. Shouldn't every mountainous island have a babbling brook and an ocean break? I guess the reality of it is, nearly everything I see here is water: the sea ice, the snow covered hillsides, the frost on the railings, even the clouds in the sky. But as much as I mumble incoherently to the snow and ice, it never makes a sound in return.

Here's what makes it all worth it. When the temperature drops suddenly, the moisture in the air collects everywhere as hoar frost. For a place where the humidity is generally under 10%, the frost gets surprisingly thick. On several occasions I've seen beautifully crystallized hoar frost over an inch thick. Check out the layer on this bamboo flagpole:

The frost is all on the windward side of this flag, but on a calm day it would collect uniformly, like it did on this bicycle:

One of the most amazing things I've seen here is invisible snow falling from invisible clouds. Thats right, invisible snow, and I could see it. The temperature was dropping and hoar frost was forming on railings, doorknobs, flagpoles, bicycles. The air was clear and still and the sky cloudless. But the frost was also forming out of thin air into weightless microscopic flakes. The full moon shone down and reflected off of floating ice crystals too small to be seen by the naked eye. The air around me was literally sparkling, like a shower of moonlight pixie dust in some cold, demented fairy land. Tiny specs appearing for an instant and disappearing immediately into a void of perfectly clear air. I can only imagine that to an indoor observer I looked like an escaped mental patient seeing visions in the empty space around me! It was really amazing, and I just stood there in the severe cold staring into nothing for several minutes.

Something else I stare at on every clear day is the last vestige of sunlight on the northern horizon. I mentioned this in my last post, so here's the visual:

The full moon is up right now, which is a blessing and a curse. I hiked up to second crater again yesterday under the brilliant light of the moon. I had forgotten how much I like to play outside under the moon. I was reminded of moonlight mountain bike rides on the Syncline. With the total lack of sun, the moon is a definite source of warmth and beauty. I took this picture at about the same time of day as the orange horizon above, but in the opposite direction:

It is a long exposure, so don't be fooled by the blue appearance of the sky. Later in the day, I saw a faint aurora that once again stretched the length of the sky in a long stripe. It had to be a strong one to be seen over the light of the moon. So the downside of the moon is that it tends to blot out what could be a great auroral display. There is still plenty of time for that, though.

3 comments:

freya said...

Hey, I'm a friend of Brett's and Brian Anna sent me here. All I can say is WOW. That bike is amazing, and I'm so jealous of your aurora sightings!
The no bugs thing is very bizarre...you just take for granted that these things are roaming around, even when you don't see them. Props to your friend for trying to help the beetle - sorry it didn't work out. But hey, a week in a beetle life is awhile, no?

Erin said...

You really are turning into a silver toungued devil you know! Some great language in this one.
"The air around me was literally sparkling, like a shower of moonlight pixie dust in some cold, demented fairy land. Tiny specs appearing for an instant and disappearing immediately into a void of perfectly clear air."

GOOD STUFF!! :o)

As usual, in the burgh, we've got plenty of rain to spare! I promise to stop complaining about it!

b nelson said...

Thanks for chiming in, Freya! I suppose you're right about a beetle's life. I hadn't considered that.

Erin, I must admit I was pretty proud of the "demented fairy land" bit; thanks for noticing!