It’s piling up! It looks deeper than it really is on my patio — the wind is gusting into my corner and leaving more snow on my tables. I opened my patio door wide to take these pics on my phone and enjoy the silence that always comes with snow. I’ll go out for a walk later when it gets deeper; for now I want to leave my sidewalk pristine.

(Photos taken on my iPhone.)

It’s the kind of night where you go for a drive by the lake (or ocean, or river) with all the windows down so the cool breeze fills the car and touches every accessible area of skin. The only sound at home is the hum of a fan and the distant twittering of a couple of birds and a cricket outside the open windows.

My cat is sprawling on the ottoman, apparently content to doze nearby (and in danger of pushing my laptop to the floor with every shift and stretch). At the moment, things don’t seem so bad. There is no swine flu, politics, earthquakes, economy, or any other stress in my little corner of the cool evening.

I appreciate these moments when the simple things can be enjoyed: a cool breeze, my cat’s foot resting on my hand as he cleans his face, a bit of friendly conversation from neighbors drifting by.

Heat can be tiring even when you’re not out in it. Sitting home in a closed house can get stale, and watching the thermostat slowly rise is no fun when you have to close the blinds lest the sun make it worse.

But when things cool down and slow down in the evening, it’s like everything takes a rest. It’s a strange natural phenomenon, sort of like the silence after the first deep snowfall of winter.

It also gives new meaning to the verse where Adam and Eve “heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8). How pleasant it must have been to regularly visit with God in the cool evening. (That particular verse is after the fall and describes how they hid, but it implies that this was a regular routine.)

So I’m off now to wallow in this pleasant lassitude and let tomorrow worry about itself.

I’m sure you’ve seen the weather and know that it’s been blazing hot here for the last 4-5 days. The humid/heat haze is as dense as I’ve seen it here, noticeable a 1/2 mile away in the morning and 1/4 mile away in the late afternoon. I didn’t step foot outside my house on Saturday and Sunday, literally. My office a/c was cranked up yesterday and today, and I’ve actually been a little chilly at my desk with a cool breeze on my neck all day. When I leave for the day, the heat almost makes my skin tingle.

Tonight we’re supposed to get some relief. The winds are supposed to shift, the temp get down to 80 (!) and then only up to 88 tomorrow with a chance of storms. And then finally, tomorrow night will actually get into the low 70s.

The winds are already shifting. I was in Chesapeake this evening and noticed that the haze seemed to be getting thicker as the sun descended. And then I smelled the smoke. You can’t tell it from the the thickness of the haze, but there is actually a steady breeze out there, and it’s bringing up smoke from the NC wildfires. The smell is so strong that it wasn’t until I started driving home and saw the haze everywhere that I was finally convinced there wasn’t a fire nearby. The smell and haze are just as strong at home as in Greenbrier. I wouldn’t say that I got more than 20 minutes of smelling it or being outside in it, but it still irritated my throat a little.

Thankfully, it has not crept inside my house yet. I turned the a/c up a couple of degrees so it won’t turn on as quickly as these past few days. I’m hoping that by the time it kicks in again, the wind will have shifted to come off the water more instead of straight south, and the smell will be less. Somehow I doubt the pleated filter is up to the task of cutting out all that smoke.

Update 6/11: Va Pilot has a good photo of the smoke and haze (below). It started clearing last night around 10:00 and seemed clear by this morning.

Active storm season likely – believe it or not
Last year, the hurricane forecast was too strong, but experts still say beware.
BY PATRICK LYNCH
May 23, 2007

As with anything that involves odds and percentages, averages and medians – not to mention El Nino and La Nina – you never know with hurricanes.

The Atlantic hurricane season starts June 1. Tuesday, the scientists at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Climate Prediction Center predicted a 75 percent chance that it will be more active than the average season of the past 50 or so years.

The forecast calls for 13 to 17 named storms, seven to 10 hurricanes and three to five major hurricanes – Category 3 or stronger.

But it’s still hard to know what to make of the forecasts, even as we gain more historical data each year and as scientists say models are better than ever.

Last year’s spring forecasts – not just from NOAA but from noted climatologists at Colorado State University – vastly oversold the intensity of hurricane season.

And 2005, the year of Katrina and Rita, a shocking 27 tropical storms formed in the Atlantic basin. The forecast called for 12 to 15. Fifteen hurricanes developed; seven to nine were predicted.

Predictions in the three years previous, however, were quite accurate.

That may be reason enough not to shrug at the forecast for another busy season. But Gerald Bell, a NOAA scientist who announced the study Tuesday, gave another reason.

The Atlantic region remains only about 12 years into an “active” hurricane cycle that will likely last 25 to 40 years, Bell said.

This cycle began in 1995, after a less than active period from 1971 to 1994. Since 1995, the Atlantic coast has seen 12 hurricane strikes and the Gulf coast, 17. That is already almost the same number as during the preceding 24 years.

Nine of the 12 seasons since 1995 have seen above-average intensity.

“Last year’s activity should not be considered an indication that this active hurricane era has ended,” Bell said. “There is no indication this active hurricane era has ended.”

The 2006 season was clipped largely due to a rapidly developing El Nino system, Bell said.

That will not happen this year, he predicted.

But a La Nina effect could intensify tropical storms.

NOAA and National Weather Service officials used the occasion of the forecast to say that no matter what the prediction, just one storm can cause huge devastation. Hurricane Andrew caused $25 billion in damage to Florida in 1992 despite coming in a year with a below-average intensity forecast.

Speaking of the lull in storms in 2006, National Hurricane Center Director Bill Proenza said, “We’re always concerned that infrequency can be disarming.”

(I would have just linked to this article, but items published earlier than the current day require registration to view.)