Weather

Weather

Jennifer stopped the car on the hill above Porthleven, then reached
into the back seat for her camera

Duncan got out and walked forward to take in the fishing village bathed
in the rich gold of sunset, transforming the white of the old terraces
and fishermen's cottages into a wonderland of light and shade,
surrounding the darkening granite harbour. "Remarkable", he
commented.

"They sure are", Jennifer replied, her right eye glued to the camera
sight. She was facing the other way, out over Mounts Bay to Penzance,
snapping off a shot of a backlit cloud bank gradually moving in from
the west to capture the evening sky, its leading edge bubbling on top
into miniature turrets on fire with the reds and yellows of
wintersun.

She snapped about every minute, trying to preserve, in a series of
stills, some examples of the light show of the gods.

Duncan drank in the beauty, and said: "Altocumulus castellanis , three
octas cover, base about 12000 feet, tops 14000 to 15000 feet. The
bubbly turrets indicate quite a deal of instability in the middle
levels."

"Yes dear" said Jennifer, "that's exactly why I'm taking these
photographs."

Sounds a little touchy, thought Duncan, then continued: "A harbinger of
a major weather change?"

"Don't you just love the colours, dear, I really hope these pictures
come out."

"?with an approaching active cold front, with winds veering southerly
and increasing to near gale force before backing westerly and slowly
easing after the frontal passage."

"Just a couple more now, the light is fading. "

"With the approach of the front, expect an increase in lower level
cloud, mainly cumulus with some towering Cu to 20000 feet and showers,
heavy at times on or near the front."

"Will it be dark then, Duncan?"

"Yes it will be. Then weather and visibility will gradually improve
after the front."

"But will it still be dark?"

"Er, yes, it will be cooler?"

"Cold enough for snow?"

"No of course not, why do you want to know..."

"I just like the way it looks on the roofs, on limbs of trees, on the
fields. I'd love to photograph the village in a snowy mantle, in the
early morning sun."

"Snow's not possible. You need three degrees c for snow."

"It would be picture perfect. Imagine the Ship Inn with a brilliant
white roof, and a white road around it, with a trail of footprints,
bare feet, leading in. Very 'Robinson Crusoe!'"

"But it can't happen. With the sea warmed by the Gulf Stream to at
least ten degrees here, you need an air mass with an easterly land
track to get the ambient temperature down to the three degrees c needed
for snow to fall and stay"

"I give up. Will the sun rise tomorrow?"

"Sunrise will be oh seven thirty am."

"And will you still be here when I open my eyes?"

"Of course. But the day will then be partly cloudy, with cumulus to
8000 feet, and occasional light showers."

"And if my eyes are closed, will you stop rabbitting on?"

"Of course!"

"Hmmmmmmmm"