#2322 "Parry Sound Cirrus Coming At Us"

I used this saying a lot to emphasize the importance of watching the sky and understand what it was saying. Cirrus or cirrostratus is associated with the leading edge of a warm conveyor belt which is the precursor of a weather system. There are many variations in this saying but they all come down to observing the cirrus. The rings around the moon for example are corona resulting from the moonlight diffracting through the ice crystals associated with cirrostratus. Simply, there was another autumn storm on the way.

The patterns in the cirrus told some more details about the weather story. There were lines of cirrus stretched across the sky in long deformation zones. The deformation zones were the atmospheric smoke rings around the warm conveyor belt. The icy virga from the mares' tails wafted in the wind shear. The humid upper reaches of the warm conveyor belt kept these ice crystals from quickly sublimating and the trails were teased into long strands as the ice crystals fell earthbound. The clouds revealed the relative wind velocities and these were part of the signature of the approaching storm.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2321 "Right Whale Rock with Cirrus"

Every painting needs a rhyme and a rhythm. There are at least four thousand rocks above the surface of the waters of the Parry Sound Archipelago. That is enough for any rock concert. The spacing of these hunks of granite may look irregular but from a distance there is a pattern. Similarly the words in my title may not rhyme but there is a distinct echo in the trees, the rocky islands and the clouds. These are similar-sounding and similar-looking syllables are placed so they echo one another visually in this series of Georgian Bay paintings. My goal is to capture the essence of the Parry Sound Archipelago without painting every tree, rock and cloud. The success of this mission can be gauged by the response in each individual viewer. Rhyme and rhythm does not have to be audible but just maybe can be visual as well.

The name to name the painting was prompted by a story of two right whale calves spotted off the coast of Florida. The endangered Right Whale is the rarest of all large whales. The shape of the smooth rock also reminded me of a large leviathan or whale. Right whales can weigh up to 100 tons as well as be up to 60 feet long. The name comes from the fact that the early hunters felt that this was the right type of whale to be after even though it was difficult to get these larger whales out of the water. The Right Whale floats when it dies and that made the process much easier for them. Sadly there are only about 400 known North Atlantic right whales in existence, with only 100 of those being females of mating age.

Upon discovering natural riches, it has been the habit of mankind to profiteer and plunder those resources until only about 10 percent remains. At that point the effort and profit margin makes the continued pillaging of those survivors unprofitable. The 10 percent rule and the insatiable greed of mankind is then directed to the next resource. Sadly this has been the experience of innumerable species all around the globe.

On a happier note there was another autumn storm on the way and that story was told by the increasing amounts of warm conveyor belt cirrus in the sky.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2320 "Parry Archipelago Pines Granite and Cirrus"

The nature of the Georgian Bay Archipelago is unique. The wind flagged pines and the granite ledges are everywhere. I painted my share of those.

Langmuir Streets in a Fluid

The weather is also intriguing. The effects of the inland seas on weather are many and actually fill several meteorological textbooks. These Langmuir streets of cirrus revealed the strong westerly winds aloft. There were some gravity wave signatures embedded within those bands of cirrus and those confirmed the wind direction. A band of higher level deformation zone cirrus had already passed by to the east. These winds were part of the warm conveyor belt that was directing more moisture toward Parry Sound. Another autumn storm was on the way.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2319 "Backlit Parry Sound Archipelago Afternoon"

The mid-level deformation zone of the next storm was still some distance to the southwest. Parry Sound was probably in the path of the anticyclonic portion of this deformation zone with the col further to the northwest. The cirrus comprising the leading edge of the warm conveyor belts was shearing to the southeast.

Using my right hand and pointing my fingers in the direction of those cirrus elements forced me to point my thumb Nero downward. This told me that a vorticity minimum was driving the circulation behind that confluent asymptote. At a glance I knew what portion of the approaching storm was destined to befall the archipelago. There was a bit of confirmation cloud as well. Let me explain.

The basic approach is to apply the conceptual model of the deformation zone to the observed moisture patterns. A vorticity maximum is paired with the anticyclonic vorticity minimum across that approaching confluent asymptote branch of the deformation zone. Sometimes the vorticity maximum is strong enough to provide sufficient lift to create cloud even in the drier and cooler air mass. The altocumulus elements that I witnessed in the sky and included in the painting confirmed where we were in relation to the approaching storm. These altocumulus clouds were also moving toward the southeast but on the opposite side of the deformation zone line in the sky. The painting is the weather observation and the record of my experience. Simply, there was another autumn storm on the way.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2318 "Parry Sound Archipelago Mares Tails"

#2318 "Parry Sound Archipelago Mares Tails"

The long arc of the deformation zone was just part of the weather story told by the clouds over the Georgian Bay Archipelago. The elongated band of cloud was the leading edge of the warm conveyor belt of the approaching autumn storm. Sailors watched and listened to these weather stories in order to survive and those high, windswept clouds told them to batten down their hatches. As the proverb goes, "Mares' tails and mackerel scales make lofty ships to carry low sails."

In this painting though I was focused mainly on the "cirrus uncinus" which is from the Latin meaning "curly hooks". Most people call them mares' tails. In any event these ice crystal clouds are typically sparse in the sky and very thin. In this view across Georgian Bay I had an entire herd of horses stampeding toward Parry Sound.

The convective equestrian rump of these atmospheric horses may not be very large but long trails of ice crystals waft earthward shaped by the winds in the atmosphere. The cirrus horse typically runs faster at the higher levels of the atmosphere and the ice crystals fall into lesser winds. The result is that the icy tail lags along far behind the horsey source. The individual hairs were separated and this might be aided by some atmospheric process. Sublimation of the smaller ice crystals may warm the adjacent air parcels between the central shafts of the mare's hair where supposedly the crystals should be bigger and hang on the longest before they too sublimate into oblivion.

I wondered whether the fibrous nature of mares tails and cirrus clouds in general could be a Darwinian selection process. The larger ice crystals would certainly defy sublimation and the release of the heat of vaporization for the longest period of time. All of the large crystals from a particular source area would thus have a longer tale to tell. The smaller crystals would be the first to succumb and sublimate into oblivion. Even though the sources of both look the same from twenty thousand feet away, maybe there are differences? For example, small ripples like those on a lake could happily exist within the rump of the old grey mare. The wave crest in these ripples would convectively produce the larger ice crystals. Earth observers might not be able to resolve those small convective elements from miles away. These ripples though could have impact on crystal growth and the formation of the individual hairs in the tail.

I am not sure if anyone has solved this question or even posed it before. Many hairs come from each rump even though there only seems to be a single focus and no obvious, smaller convective elements. I am making all of this up as I do not have the instrumentation to answer the question directly. I find it interesting though and it gives me something else to think about as I paint. Sometimes it is best if you let your mind wander and wonder while you paint. It is not helpful to get tangled up in the process of the pigments on the canvas.

I would paint this same location in #2304 "Georgian Rugged Shore Pines".

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2317 "Canine Cove Cirrus Sunset"

The deformation zone on the western horizon of Georgian Bay was on fire with the September sunset. The long and straight arc of cirrus in the sky could only result from the leading edge of the moisture with the warm conveyor belt of the approaching low pressure area. Wisps of cirrus that were precursors of the main area of moisture were strung out parallel to the deformation zone. The atmosphere is stable at the height of the tropopause and these pieces of cirrus were undulating in gravity waves like those on a lake. Although the storm was clearly advancing on Canine Cove, there was a component of the wind from the south creating those waves in the atmosphere. The sunset sky might look chaotic but the message it told was very clear in the plain language of the clouds. There was another autumn storm on the way. It was a fun sky to witness and to paint.

Every painting needs a rhythm. The waves in the cirrus streaks provided the tempo... and the beat goes on.

For a description of how deformation zones form... I blog about the science as well as the art... "A Closer Look at Lines in the Sky". Art and science are really the same  as they examine the natural world around us.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2316 "Outbound from Snug Harbour"

Snug Harbour was a quaint and quiet little cove that reminded me very much of Nova Scotia. This is another view of Snug Harbour Range Rear Lighthouse which I also painted in #2311. I tried to be faithful to all of the structures on the various rocky islands. The Snug Harbour Rear Range Lighthouse is a one-and-a-half storey dwelling with a tapered tower rising from the centre of its roof. It was built in 1893 and became operational within a year later.

This view is looking toward the west as we left the shelter of Snug Harbour. The cold front was well to the south and the northwesterly breeze was starting to organize streets of stratocumulus.

I also painted the buildings of Snug Harbour itself in #2312 "Snug Harbour".

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2315 "Foggy Cold Frontal Passage"

The morning at Canine Cove had dawned with very thick fog. The Parry Sound Archipelago was in the warm sector of the autumn storm and our ongoing exploration of the area would be delayed. The fog was so thick that we we lost all landmarks if we ventured across any of the broad expanses of water. A much larger boat came by and it probably had radar. We shuffled into the wake of the Prima Donna boat and followed along. As we putted along northward there was a subtle shift of the wind to the northwest. Within a half hour the visibility was great at our location to the west of Killbear. The fog was lifting like a miracle into low stratus. It was safe to explore the beautiful shoreline.

This view is looking toward the east and the Killbear shore just after the cold front was passed our location. The water was a bit choppy with the wind shift as the waves tried to decide which way to go. The water was momentarily confused.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2314 "Parry Sound Cold Front"

The morning at Canine Cove had dawned with very thick September fog. The Parry Sound Archipelago was deep into the warm sector of the autumn storm. I knew that the cold front was to the northwest but without doing an isobaric analysis it was a challenge to tell just how far. Being optimistic and always enjoying an adventure, my friend Cam and I departed in his boat for a tour of the Georgian Bay shoreline to the north.

The fog was so thick that we we lost all landmarks if we ventured across any of the broad expanses of water. A much larger boat came by and it probably had radar. We shuffled into the wake of the Prima Donna boat and followed along. As we putted along northward there was a subtle shift of the wind to the northwest. Within a half hour the visibility was great and we toured a lot of the Georgian Bay landmarks as we had hoped.

This view is looking toward the southeast at the back end of the cold front. Some cumulus convection was evident along the front. If you looked closely you could even find some virga. There might have been a few convective drops that reached the bay but it would have been impossible to tell them from the spray of the boat.

The water levels were high in all of the Great Lakes. Some of the vegetation along the shoreline was submerged. You could read the water levels etched in the shoreline rocks. I included the sign posted on the point which encouraged boaters to respect the shoreline and leave only a minimal wake.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.

#2313 "Flagged Pines and Cirrus"

The wind shapes the clouds and the forests. This view could be identified as looking northwesterly even without the aid of a compass. The flagged white pines have learned to lean with the wind. There is nothing to be gained by fighting a force of nature. The cirrus clouds were banded with the wind as well. These clouds were part of the warm conveyor belt surging northeast toward the Parry Sound Archipelago. Some gravity waves were perpendicular to those southwesterly winds comprising the warm conveyor belt. A long deformation zone was also perpendicular to those winds with the col in the pattern further to the north. The sun was getting low and the forests were strongly backlit showing their dark sides. The granite rocks were smooth on this particular island as they sloped into the depths.

Tom Thomson and members of the Group of Seven painted in the area for a while around 1914.

For this and much more art, click on Pixels. Thank you.