(402) 238-9861 art@moonriseelkhorn.com

Back to blogging – snowflakes – african violets – first pages of books

Apparently, 2015 was not a good year to write…but today is 2016 and it is a good day to write…

Needle Snowflakes

from 28 December 2015 snowfall – collected at Dewey Circle.  Needle crystals are the products of warm, wet snowfalls, forming when the temperature is close to 23-degrees F and humidity is high – needles are the longest of the columnar snow crystals – it was 22-degrees F with 83% humidity the day of snowfall.

– collected at TL Davis Preserve in western Douglas County – conditions were different from Dewey as the crystal shapes were more dendritic interlocking crystals – barbed branches lock together to form an exceptionally light fluffy blanket of ice – any sound that strikes the structure is efficiently absorbed by friction between the crystals – these also require high humidity – the ample water-vapour supply vigorously drives the branching instability to produce numerous side branches – after this type of snowfall, it is a very quiet place.

At TL Davis, the Lespedeza heads easily captured the snow crystals – however the hilltop catches full sunlight and the crystals quickly disappeared – whereas on the north facing slope, the melting crystals remained days longer

 

 

AFRICAN VIOLETS

And what better way to start the New Year than with fresh crisp blooms of the african violets…

 

 

First Pages of Books
“This inscription could be seen on the glass door of a small shop, but naturally this was only the way it looked if you were inside the dimly lit shop, looking out at the street throught the plate-glass door.
Outside, it was a gray, cold, rainy November morning. The rain ran down the glass and over the ornate letters.  Through the glass there was nothing to be seen but the rain-splotched wall across the street.
Suddenly the door was opened so violently that a little cluster of brass bells tinkled wildly, taking quite some time to calm down. The cause of this hubbub was a fat little boy of ten or twelve.  His wet, dark-brown hair hung down over his face, his coat was soaked and dripping, and he was carrying a school satchel slung over his shoulder.  He was rather pale and out of breath, but, despite the hurry he had been in a moment before, he was standing in the open doorway as though rooted to the spot.
Before him lay a long, narrow room, the back of which was lost in the half-light. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Large folios were piled high on the floor, and on several tables lay heaps of smaller, leather-bound books, whose spines glittered with gold. The far end of the room was blocked off by a shoulder-high wall of books, behind which the light of a lamp could be seen.  From time to time a ring of smoke rose up in the lamplight, expanded, and …”
end of page one.

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