#2729 "December Parting of the Stratocumulus"

#2729 "December Parting of the Stratocumulus"
16x20 inches oil on stretched canvas

It had been a chilly and overcast December day. Cloud was sloshing around the Great Lakes like soap suds in the dish sink. The Arctic air soaked up moisture and filled with clouds wherever it rested over the warm and open waters of the lakes. This cloud would drift everywhere the wind took it. In the weather centre, I would use boundary layer deformation zones to predict the inland extent of those cloud banks. It was interesting science although not many people seemed to care. 

Understanding and predicting moisture within the planetary boundary layer requires a grasp of many sciences in addition to meteorology. The prediction of water vapour within the free atmosphere is comparatively easy. Near the earth's surface, countless physical factors come into play: flow curvature, upslope, downslope, surface moisture, surface colour, orientation to and from the sun and the list goes on and on. The time of day and season changes all of these parameters hourly to further complicate the forecast. The incorrect prediction of low cloud is where most forecasts go sour.

The accompanying Night-time Microphysics RGB satellite image, reveals the break in the low clouds 

Low cloud is also a significant weakness of t numerical weather prediction models. I know of meteorologists who refer to stratocumulus as "garbage clouds" probably as a result of the challenges in the correct prediction of moisture near the earth's surface where quantities are always being shared and transformed. I view boundary layer clouds as distinctively challenging and beautiful in that they reveal the physics of the natural world. Sadly, it seems that the art of meteorology is no longer in much demand. I was extremely fortunate to have worked through what I believe was the Golden Age of Meteorological Science. 

Just before sunset, the heavens opened up miraculously along a south-to-north line on the horizon. The light poured through that gap and instantly made the world bright and warm. The northerly breeze which was the outflow from the Arctic high-pressure area was still chilly but was easily countered by the solar radiation. I had to record that moment in oils. It reminded me of the parting of the Red Sea by Moses although I was not there for that. That miraculous separation of that biblical sea explains the title of this painting overlooking Jim Day Rapids and Singleton Lake. 

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Warmest regards and keep your paddle in the water,

Phil Chadwick