How did it get to be March already? Summer goes by too fast. The days now are shortening, and a chill coming to the nights and mornings. December doesn't really count as summer, everyones all focused on the end of the year, January is generally a blur of holidays and getting back to work, then February goes by only slightly less quickly.
Not that it was a particularly memorable summer anyway. Never actually cold, and not quite the worst summer I can remember (that was around 1991-1992), but close, and only occasionally warm and calm around here like we know it can be. Mostly grey and wet at the times we didn't want it to be. There was a definite paucity of hot days and evenings, and swimming at the beach.
I'm usually the last to complain about the weather, but my pragmatism has been sorely tested this summer. Thanks a bunch La Nina.
Still, there were one or two nice sunsets to be had:
So with the snow all gone and the Model Expo last weekend done and dusted, I can kind of get back to regular service with this thing. Not before going back a week for some more recap of what was a slightly epic weather event for us (apologies for those who have seen some of this on facebook already).
Monday morning I got to take one of my 'It's like this right now' backyard thermometer pics with PROPER SNOW ON MY LAWN:
After it stopped snowing on Monday evening the hail and sleet started. I've never seen so much. Not so much the size as the volume and duration. It hailed for hours, and started piling up on our south facing windows like so:
Before dark though and between hailstorms Charlotte woke from her afternoon nap to find a snowman had been busy on the back lawn with something to see from her bedroom window:
She then got to go out and properly play in the stuff for only the second time ever (the first being the night before), describing the funny white stuff as 'squishy'. I love the bit where she figures out she is making footprints:
The best was still to come. Tuesday afternoon saw late afternoon snow forecast to about 100 metres above sea level (with our house at about 200 metres), but when snow started falling like this at my work at sea level and settling, I figured it was time to get out of dodge and go home while I still could:
All the way home I caught glimpses of people on the street and leaning out of doors in fascination, snowfall at this level in this locale being at best a once in a generation event if not totally unheard of.
Waiting at the intersection to turn up the hill road to home and seeing this bus having just come down the same road didn't fill me with confidence about getting up in my underpowered, understeering, non snow tyre or chain equipped car. I'm a confident driver, and have driven in snow a couple of times before, but that was in much more suitable vehicles. Driving our wagon in snow wasn't something we ever thought we would have to do :).
After a nervous few minutes I made it home, where things looked like this out the window:
The road was closed to traffic not long after. Since we had nothing else to do, a bit of snowman making was in order. Sophie was tucked up warm in her afternoon nap, so missed out (something she will no doubt grump at us for when she is older):
For those who don't know me in person, yeah that is my voice on both videos, and me at the end. I loved the quiet. I had heard about the way snowfall deadens sound, but never experienced it until now. With the road closed the only noise was the soft hiss of the snow falling, the 'shuff' of it falling off trees, distant trains and planes, and the voices of family and neighbours carrying much much further than they ever normally would. It was serene and verging on magical.
Venturing down the hill on foot to have a look around it was apparent the serenity wasn't universal. Most of these vehicles are parked where their drivers realised they had run out of grip/talent.
Not before at least one found the limits of their vehicle the hard way though:
Moving further down the hill revealed the valley floor snowbound (something I have never experienced in my lifetime, or even heard of), and people climbing the hill on foot having abandoned their vehicles below. It isn't much snow, but when no-one is used to it things get surreal pretty quickly:
The drive to work the next day, as even though the snow was melted, there were still cars littered all over the place at wierd angles and odd places.
Despite the disruption, there were some pretty sights to be seen on the walk back home:
Our road later that night after a grader had cleared it:
And our birdbath/skating rink:
As if to underline how unusual snow like this is here, by morning overnight rain had mostly melted it away, leaving our front-lawn snowmen looking a little forlorn:
Although at work there was a large snowball that managed to persist for a couple of days:
The cold weather lasted until the weekend, but we didn't get any more snow, no matter how many times Charlotte asked for it. This will probably go down in local history as one of those things that get talked about in a "remember when" way, like the floods of 1976, or the Wahine Storm of 1968. I'm glad we got to experience it (myself having only seen snow at close hand maybe half a dozen times in my entire life, and never at my home).
A lot of people have linked this next video, and I'm going to because I love the way it sums up people's reactions to snow in a city where many will have never seen it there before. This was shot in Cuba Mall in central Wellington on the Monday afternoon, and it is cool.
It might be normal for a lot of people, but it was pretty special for us :).
I thought the weather a few weeks ago was memorable, but this evening it has been just surreal.
Here is what it feels like right now and is forecast to do for the next few days in Wellington. We are in one of the hill suburbs expected to get more snow tomorrow (source Metservice, click to enlarge):
And here is what the street outside my house looks like. I have never seen it like this before, and have never heard of snow falling lower in the valley like it has today:
It might not look like a lot to those who are used to it, but this really doesn't happen here very often. We happened to have the house re-insulated earlier this week, and I picked up a nice comfy down jacket today, both of which have paid off handsomely already. Cool :)
So here's what it feels like in Wellington right now (click on any pic to enlarge): Screengrab from the excellent Metservice.com.
My backyard thermometer is showing about 4 deg as well, and combined with the lazy wind (Lazy because it goes right through you rather than around you) straight from the Southern Ocean and humidity it is bitterly cold tonight *.
It has been all day, and last night too, as part of a cold snap affecting the whole country, resulting in a rare dusting of snow around Wellington, and my patch in the Lower Hutt Valley in particular. Not a lot of snow, but snow on the ground around here just doesn't happen that often. Maybe a tiny bit once or twice a winter on the higher hilltops, but snow like we had this morning is more like a once a decade or so event. I'll even go as far to say I have never seen snow so low on the Eastern hills in thirty years or so living here. So cold, but cool :)
Boulder Hill (442m) behind Kelson. The last time I saw snow like that up there was in the 1990's. Eastern Hills behind Naenae. Never seen more than the odd tiny patch of snow up there. Mt Fitzherbert (377m) in the Eastern Hills. Mt Towai (348m) behind Waterloo. Towai firebreak. Never seen white firebreaks before either. There is an outdoor walk-in fridge unit at my work set at 5 degrees. I went in there about midday and it felt warmer inside than out While it is still sleeting now, it is supposed to clear overnight, meaning likely frost and ice in the morning.
*While the absolute temp might not seem that cold to those used to more serious winters, I have been assured by visitors from places like Saskatchewan that due to the humidity the temperature felt is quite chilling.We are just used to it because we live here.
Listening to: Friction Baby - Better than Ezra (1996).
So after a wild night of squalls and rain, the weather cleared tonight to give us a beautiful sunset. Now you can't photograph every good sunset, and not all of them that look good to the eye necessarily look good to the camera, but the laws of irony will often dictate that when a great sunset occurs that is worth photographing, the proper camera won't be available.
So instead tonight's effort comes to you via my cellphone: Taken at about ten past five on the grass outside my work office in Gracefield.
The front served up a doozy of a thunderstorm at about 1am this morning. Lots of reasonably close thunder and lightning, and for a brief period what sounded like unusually large hail. It was going 'clunk' as it hit the roof instead of the more usual 'tick-tick-tick'. I would have gone out to have a look but I had a great view of proceedings through the window above our bed and opted to stay comfy. The rain and hail were so noisy you could hear it approaching across neighbouring rooftops after lulls.
Good thunderstorms aren't a regular occurrence around here so I was quite enjoying this one, until a quiet whimpering from the room next door became audible. This was Charlotte's first proper thunderstorm, and she didn't appreciate being woken up by the combination of loud rain/hail, loud thunder, gale wind gusts and bright flashes in the sky. I remember feeling the same once upon a time, before I figured out that weather could be fun.
It was a reminder that for all the growing up we feel she is doing in a relative sense, she is after all still not quite 3 years old. She was calmed with a daddy cuddle and some quiet words of explanation/comfort, but couldn't quite remember who put her back to bed when asked about it this afternoon :)
Sophie on the other hand didn't stir at all. At 9 weeks old, it is interesting figuring out just what she will and won't sleep through. Charlotte is providing ample opportunities for experimentation in this regard...
The sunset tonight enhanced by the ash from Puyehue-Cordon-Caulle, having arrived in NZ airspace after taking the long way round by heading east from Chile, and disrupting local air travel to a seldom seen degree. During the day the suspended ash is surprisingly noticeable as a very lightly tan coloured haze. Shot from the Kennedy Good Bridge at about 1730, definitely winter at the moment. *I wish I had come up with that description/title, but credit belongs to a regular on one of the aviation forums I inhabit :)
Cool time-lapse video of wave cloud generated by a northwesterly bouncing up off a range of hills in Otago:
The northwesterly gales we had here last Sunday generated a pretty spectacular wave over Wellington. This is from my place looking southwest toward the city in the late afternoon: Note the pine tree leaning with the wind at the bottom of the frame. Would have made for an awesome sunset but the weather closed in and started raining about ten minutes after I took the photograph and the cloud was hidden from view.
Melling Bridge at about 8:30 this morning. Frost on the railing, on the footpath and riverbank. Still crisp mornings like this are one of the few times I like winter. Kinda cold for cycling though (I had two pairs of gloves on this morning, amongst other thermal layers), although not as cold as Monday and Tuesday were. They were actually icy.
And the novelty of crunching through frosty grass is even more fun on a bike.That said, there are times I am glad we are so close to sea level here and only have frosts and occasional icing to deal with. I probably wouldn't enjoy riding through proper ice and snow so much.
My fair city of Wellington got a big old can of weather whupass opened up on it this afternoon. Story links here (via Stuff) and here (via Weathewatch.co.nz). This was the first big storm of he year, and while it is technically early autumn, storms like this don't usually turn up for another month or two, and are generally not as psychotically intense. This thing inflicted the sort of damage in an hour or so that the regular southerlies take a day or two to manage.
Being an interested weather watcher (some may have noted numerous previous weather related posts (link)), I had an idea that we may get some interesting weather this afternoon, so took my camera to work on the off chance there might be something worth photographing. As the day progressed I periodically checked the metservice website (including their wonderful rain radar) as well as looking out the nearest window to see how things were developing. As it turned out, things got interesting right when I finished for the day, so I headed down to Petone Beach at the northern end of Wellington Harbour to watch the expected southerly arrive. I was hoping to get some cool cloud shots, and maybe some lightning if I was really lucky. As it happened I got a little more than I bargained for. Apologies to those who have already seen these on facebook. And a big shout out to my 16 year old nephew who got caught by the storm and rode it out (for about 10 miles worth) on a pushbike during his regular training ride.
Click on any pic to enlarge
Thanks to the timestamping on my camera images, I can give an exact timeline for just how fast this thing descended. I got to the beach at about 1620, just as the storm was starting to engulf the city. This is from Petone, looking across the harbour to Wellington about 10 kilometres away. Matiu/Somes Island is on the left about 2 kilometres away. Where I am standing the sun is still shining, and there is a warm northerly breeze... Looking out south to the harbour entrance, Seatoun on the right is still in the sun, but the imminent storm is apparent.
By 1625, the inner harbour and central city are disappearing into the gloom.
Looking back at the harbour entrance at 1627 it is becoming clear that this isn't your average southerly change.
Matiu/Somes Island at 1628. The normal backdrop of the city and eastern suburbs is entirely obscured.
Possibly the largest whirlwind I have ever seen (est 1-200m across) under the squall line as it advances across the harbour at 1629. This got me wondering if I was about to see an actual tornado for the first time, and was somewhat intimidating given the bigger picture I was seeing.
At 1631 the storm has hit the other end of the beach, and although I didn't see them at the time, there are actually people still swimming in the picture. If you look closely you can see them, as well as the sand the wind is picking up. The white line on the water is where the wind shear is. Where I was the wind was no longer out of the north, but shuffling confusedly. When the shear hit it was like a bomb. The wind went from confused shuffling to 100+kph gale in few seconds.
Here is the same view five minutes later at 1636. I had retreated to my car at this point, althought the car was being bounced around by the gale so much I moved it to point into the wind to lessen the feeling I was going to be rolled (the MX-5 is not particularly noted for its weight...). I was also wondering if I was in over my head a bit with this storm. I bailed for a slightly less scary location a few minutes later.
Looking back toward Matiu/Somes at 1641. You can just see the island. The sea state makes an interesting comparison with the shots from less than 15 minutes earlier.
These are typical scenes around Lower Hutt tonight.
The worst of the storm had passed by 1830, and by 1930 it was almost like nothing had happened, albeit much colder.
Just for comparison, this is what dawn looked like from my lounge (looking northwest) this morning.
