Blue Norther on the horizon

"Blue" Norther on the horizon, 5 x 7 watercolor

"Nothing between us and the North Pole but a barb wire fence, and two strands of that are down."
So was our joke a few years ago as a "blue norther" swept through rural Oklahoma, plunging temperatures into the teens in a matter of minutes, with a biting wind chill to boot.
If you live any time on the Great Plains, you have experienced a blue norther sometime in your life.
Most memorable for me was several years ago, driving on a clear day through the Texas Panhandle toward New Mexico.
But up ahead, I could see this dark wedge against the northwest sky. Almost within sight of Amarillo, the ragged dark gray edge of clouds, ahead of dark blue gray on the horizon angled toward me.
 In a few minutes, I was pelted with sleet and freezing rain, and Interstate traffic slowed to a crawl. I saw jackknifed trucks within a mile or so. Instead of making it to Santa Fe by nightfall, I stopped, ate, watched the weather get worse outside. I managed to get to Tucumcari for the night.
Blue Norther? I looked it up. It's a  a fast-moving cold front that causes temperatures to drop dramatically and quickly. Common characteristics are a dark blue-black sky, strong winds, and temperatures than can drop 20-30 degrees Fahrenheit in a few minutes.
Ironically, they are commonly associated with the Texas Panhandle, and are sometimes called Texas Northers, though they occur elsewhere on the Great Plains.

The Texas State Historical Association reports that  the term "Blue Norther" has at least three attributions:
"The term refers, some say, to a norther that sweeps 'out of the Panhandle under a blue-black sky'—that is, to a cold front named for the appearance of its leading edge. Another account states that the term refers to the appearance of the sky after the front has blown through, as the mid-nineteenth-century variant 'blew-tailed norther' illustrates. Yet another derives the term from the fact that one supposedly turns blue from the cold brought by the front."

The National Weather Service in Amarillo notes that Blue Northers can catch people off guard. Temperatures can drop as much as 40 to 60 degrees within hours. Many times the temps will be unseasonably mild before hand, but they can happen anytime from late fall to late winter.

One of the most historic blue northers occurred Nov. 11, 1911. Some say it was among the most sudden and dangerous cold blasts in American history.

Cities in the Midwest experienced record highs in the 70's and 80's. By evening, temps in these same cities would drop into the single-digits, recording their record lowest temperatures.

In early afternoon,  the blue norther  blanketed cities like Kansas City and St. Louis will dark blue skies and low clouds.  By late afternoon, thunderstorms and hail began, and the temp began to drop. In Columbia, Mo., in one hour it fell from 82 to 38. By evening, driving rain, sleet, hail, and tornadoes gave way to snow and temps reached single digits. 
(Most of this is from an online web site.)
Speaking of blue, I use more blue colors in painting than any other. This one, is all with Ultramarine, and a little umber. It fits the subject.

Cold Moon moods, and planets

"Cold Full Moon," 5 x 7 watercolor card

The full moon brings moods and magic  and memories to me, and its gravity has always pulled me, like tides. Tonight two planets, Venus and Saturn, will add to the magic.

Here's a link to a chapter from my unfinished novel: "Time for the Moon."

The Old Farmers' Almanac says tonight's December full moon is sometimes called the Full Cold Moon, though it is a moon of many names, depending on geography or Native American tribes.
My favorite would be the Cree name, translated as the "Hoar Frost Moon" or the Hopi, whose ceremonies honored lunar and solar cycles,  "Sparrow-Halk Moon." China's ancients termed it the "Winter Month" moon, because it is so close to winter solstice.
In my imagination,  and thus the watercolor, on the Great Plains, or in the West, I'd just step outside to view the magic.
Here, I'll have to leave our neighborhood because of the trees to see it rise, and on the opposite horizon, in the southwest, shortly after sunset, Venus and Saturn will be almost touching, but they won't be up long before they set, as the "Full Cold Moon" rises shortly after sunset.

Color, and peace in a season of gloom

Color in a gloomy season, 5 x 7 watercolor card

As the days grow shorter, the nights longer, and the solstice nears, instead of a season of peace, gloom grows in December. 
 It can be a gloomy season  from gray days, from worsening weather, from "cabin fever," or worse, from events in our lives, from stress and clamor of the holidays, from personal interactions or tragedies, or from the negative forces in our world.

But then I force myself to remember, if it weren't for such times, color would lose its importance and power. In painting, or perhaps in all art and life and religion, contrasts bring life to the world. 

The idea, the existence of Christmas in religion, proves that, with the emergence of hope in a cold world, leading to a cruel death, resulting in life and peace--a far cry from the pollution of today's commercialized religion and season--more gloom needing to be offset by color, by life.
We need to remember the overlooked words from Genesis when Yahweh said, "Let there be light." Consider, light is the source of life--and color.  

Thus today's watercolor card...by and for myself, in  world far from peaceful, full of fear mongers in the name of religion--Pay attention to color more powerful and important, bringing peace instead of gloom

"My peace I give to you, not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your hear be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

--John 14:27.

"Don't Forget," U.S.S. Arizona, Dec., 7, 1941, 5 x 7 watercolor

Sometimes, often in fact, less is more.
So it is with another Dec. 7, as the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor approaches 80 years. Words can lose their significance and power if repeated too often, or over the passage of years. 
Here are two small watercolors that I hope skim the surface of histories and memories of that day. If they have a common caption, I'd like it to be, "Don't Forget."
Since I was privileged to visit there a few years ago, I've written about it many times, and tried to paint my emotions.
Instead of repeating those ideas,  below are links to  two of those articles on this blog, with photos and more, that tell more of the story.
A Profound Stillness
Where There is Peace on Earth

"Where you can't forget," U.S.S. Arizona, 2019

Turning the Leaves of 2019, novels and more

What books have you read this year?
I started taking stock last night as I finished rereading, for the first time in decades, Fahrenheit 451, by Bradbury, thinking I'd not read much and lost track of the books. By the way, my copy is a 50th anniversary, leather bound signed copy by Bradbury, a gift from a great former student and friend, Andy Jensen.
I'd written in the first half of  this year about books choosing you and journeys of imagination at the bedside. I went back and counted 17 books  up through the first of the year. Links to those books are are the end of this post.
Here's the breakdown of 17 more books by genre for the second half of the year: Art books, 3; Inspiration, 1; Non-fiction, 6; Novels, 5; Poetry, 1; Writing, 1. You might add 5 partially read chess books, inherited from my late friend and chess partner John Lawton, who died in June.
Totals by genre from the first half of the year: Art, 3; Inspiration, 1; Non-fiction/Science, 7; Novels, 5.
Year totals: Art, 6; Inspiration, 1; Non-fiction, 12; Novels, 10; Poetry, 1; Writing, 1.

The trend I see is an increase in novels, as I usually gravitate toward non-fiction. I don't know what that says about me. do you?
(I've found much truth in these novels. Both Bradbury and Asimov, for example, are not considered "futurists," but they had, in the 1950s, a chilling ability to predict some of our current lives.)
At any rate, that's a total of 34 complete books for the year, up four from 2018.
This includes the Neil Gaiman novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, that I'm half way through, perhaps the scariest book I've ever read, and will finish before December is finished.
Art books: First Impressions in Watercolor, Edward Ward; Pioneer Arts of Taos, Laura Bickerstaff, copyright 1955, autographed to my Dad; World of Cezanne, Time Life.

A must read for every traveler

Non-Fiction: Ancient Peoples of the American Southwest, Stephen Plog; Blue Highways, Least Heat Moon, rereading; Blue Highways Revisited, Edward Ailor, III, and IV, stunning photos and stories 50 years later, a birthday gift to my @PathsTaken son Travis, a must read; Norse Mythology, Gaiman;  Soul of America, John Meacham; Indian Tribes of North America, Josepha Sherman.
Novels: in addition to Bradbury and Gaiman, Foundation Trilogy, Asimov. 
Poetry, Sunsets and Haiku, Una Belle Townsend. And lots of Whitman.
Writing: Draft #4, John McPhee.
Chess books: Common Sense in Chess, Lasker; Art of Attack in Chess, Vukovic; Queen's Gambit Accepted, Gufeld; Center Control.
By the way, I buy most of my new books from Best of Books in Edmond; Used art books, used books where I can find them, if I don't "borrow" them from my daughter's bookstore in Canyon, Texas, Burrowing Owl Books.
Here are links to the first half of year readings: 
Journeys at Bedside
When Books Choose You