AUTUMN
2006 - part 6: Incredible psychedelic sunrise!
BACK TO WEATHER-BLOG MENU
New! Fine Art Prints & digital
images for sale-
Welsh Weather & Dyfi Valley landscapes Slide-Library
- Click HERE
The busiest period in a long time
for weather photography continues unabated with the most
extraordinary sunrise I have ever seen, coastal storms
that brought flooding, thunderstorms and for some,
devastation as another powerful tornado struck, this time
in NW London. The Atlantic is certainly experiencing a
particularly active storm season, the most vigorous in
several years. No sign of winter so far, that's for
certain!
I want to begin this page with a dedication to a
dear friend, Diana Francis, who passed away on
December 1st after a long illness. Di was born in
South Africa at the end of the Second World War,
and upon reaching adult life, and understanding
what was going on out there at the time, made the
difficult decision to leave her homeland in the
hope of finding a better place, arriving first in
London and then finding her way to the Dyfi
valley where she spent the rest of her life.
I first got to know her about 12 years ago from
the pub darts scene in the Dyfi Forester, where
my old friend John Davies had moved to a few
years before I came to Machynlleth. A
larger-than-life character with a wicked sense of
humour and a deep love for the area, my abiding
memory of Di will be the spontaneous afternoon
last summer when I popped out for a quick
lunchtime pint and sat out in front of the White
Lion when she came past, stopped and we ended up
drinking G&T for the rest of an afternoon of
sunshine and laughter. The latter two things I
will always associate with Di.
She bore her health problems with a positiveness
and determination that I can only gesture at and
aspire to. The last few times I saw her, in
hospital, saw an incredible ability not only to
come to terms with her situation, but to help
others through that too. So much so that the
celebration of her life that we had yesterday was
a joyous, albeit tearful occasion. And that was
followed up with a booze-up of legendary
proportions at the White Lion. I'd like to think
she would have wholeheartedly approved of the
send-off we gave her!
A wonderful poem by Martin Newell (his
collections are essential reading!) kind of sums
it all up - he refers to the valleys and the
maritime creeks of Essex of course, because he is
there and we are here, but I hope it touches the
readers of this webpage as it touches me....
remember days with those you love, and celebrate
the natural world that they loved! And, so, we
move on...
***********************************************
HORSES SEEN THROUGH TREES
Some silver autumn morning
Remember days like these
As horses seen through trees
And in forgotten orchards
The ochre of the sun
And echo of a gun
A gale bends the birches
The elders crick and groan
The moon is smashed to pieces
In the waters of the Colne
And Autumn drags you home
The dead are reacquainted
With living they have known
Their half-remembered faces
In flowers, moss and stone
Ashes, earth and bone
And if I die in early autumn
Light a fire, boy - in the woods
Build it well and crack a bottle
Share out my worldly goods
And on some silver morning
Remember days like these
As horses seen through trees.....
**********************************************************
Di loved open skies and the sea, and so these
photos are for her!
|
November 28th: in a break from site-investigation
and BBC interviews at Bow Street, I nipped down
to Borth to catch the sunset and got a couple of
nice shots....
|
Deliberate underexposure allowed this direct shot
of the sun and cloud-illumination, with Borth
Head in the background. I quite like the
effect...
Now onto the main subject of this page. On
November 30th I awoke as dawn was breaking and
immediately sensed something "strange"
about the light. Peering out from under the
duvet, I caught an eyeful of pink clouds: looking
a bit harder I realised what was going on out
there, flew out of bed, dressed untidily, grabbed
the camera-bag and sprinted the 200m to where the
jeep was parked. The following series of images
were shot at the nearest venue from there where I
could be free of rooves and overhead cables -
Machynlleth golf-course. A solitary fencepost
made an ideal resting-place for my beanbag tripod
- these would not be fast exposures.
|
When I first saw the sky at home this was all an
incredible pink colour. By the time I was set up,
it had already changed to a fiery orange as the
sun, still below the horizon, crept ever
upwards...
|
As the sun continued to rise, streaks of molten
gold appeared and deep blue-grey areas started to
appear between the individual clouds. The scene
was constantly changing as sunrise progressed.
The clouds are mammatus. As seen elsewhere on
this site, they are frequently to be seen hanging
down from the undersides of thunderstorm anvils.
Yet in this case, no thunder was forecast: indeed
it was a dry morning.
|
The colour differentiation increases - this was
just incredible. I breathed in the cool morning
air and tried to take it all in.....
|
This was perhaps the best for the range of
colours....
|
|
As the sun rose over the horizon, the mammatus
began to fade to a duller pinkish-yellow and
finally to grey, at which point they became
scarcely visible. The day dawned to reveal a
monotonous sheet of Altostratus. I packed away
and set off home for breakfast, posting up a note
on the UK Weatherworld forum. It turned out that
a similar dawn had been seen widely across Wales
and NW England.
Mammatus may in fact form under other clouds
apart from thunderstorm anvils, but the process
appears to be relatively uncommon. The
Altostratus sheet clearly contained precipitation
particles (ice crystals or water droplets), since
fallstreaks (or virga) were observed in the
cloud-deck both here and elsewhere. Because of
the presence of precipitation particles, some
pockets of saturated air within the Altostratus
deck would have been heavier than the air below,
so that they were sinking through the cloud-deck
towards the dry, clear air below the cloudbase.
If the subsiding air contains large enough
precipitation particles, there may not be the
instantaneous evaporation of them that would
normally be expected in the clear air below the
cloud-base; instead, as happened here, the cool
moist air continued down into that clear air for
some distance, manifesting itself as these
pouchlike mammatus. Just another of many
atmospheric processes in which the explanation
may sound mundane but the results ended up giving
me the most spectacular sunrise I have ever seen!
Right time, right place has to be the number 1
rule for any weather-photographer....
|
|
This page starts at the coast and finishes there.
I can't even remember which day this was taken,
there have been so many stormy days of late!
Currently it is pouring with rain out there, the
METO have put out a plethora of warnings, my
hangover from Di's send-off has evaporated and my
thoughts are to the future and the fact that in
only 12 days time, the days will once again start
to get longer and the cycle will renew itself
once again. I've always thought that the Winter
Solstice ought to be the start of the new
calendar year - it is so much more logical and it
follows the heartbeat of the planet. I suppose
that's why it was abandoned - Man thinking he
knows better as usual. He doesn't!
|
|
BACK
TO WEATHER-BLOG MENU
New! Fine Art Prints &
digital images for sale-
Welsh Weather & Dyfi Valley landscapes
Slide-Library - Click HERE |
|
|