Midnight Christmas Eve

For the past 40 some years, it has been my personal tradition to be
outdoors at midnight on Christmas... It makes no difference which
midnight, (it's a busy time of year,) but I usually make both.
Tonight was one of the least astronomical, but probably the most
dangerous, that I can remember. My little (pop. 1400) West-Central
Iowa town has been dealing with the widespread ice-storm-blizzard that
has been blasting the American midwest. The roads have been dangerous
and often closed, and the electricity has been off as much as on...
When I went out a little before 10:00pm to get an armload of firewood,
the power had been off since about 5:30. I looked around, the
landscape strangely beautiful without a light in sight... a blurry,
blue-white, almost featureless world of ice and snow. The power came
back on shortly after that, and so my midnight walk took place back
home in the twenty-first century.
The temperature wasn't particularly bitter for a Christmas
midnight at 12 degrees F, (-11 C,) but the hard wind and blowing snow
made the night outright nasty. I put on my heavy coat, gloves, and my
old rabbit fur trooper hat with the flaps down. It made little
difference if I looked like an idiot. The sky was a featureless layer
of gray clouds, now lit by the lights of town. Above those clouds,
Orion would be just west of the meridian, as he is every Christmas
midnight, and Leo would be rising in the East. None of that made much
difference tonight though... Even the first quarter moon left no hint
of it's location. I slogged out into the harvested corn field East of
my house... making any progress was surprisingly hard work... my
boots sometimes broke through the layer of ice and sunk into the snow
halfway up to my knees, other times I wound up stepping up out of a
hole and up onto the surface. God help any traveler stuck out on a
country road... The trees around my house stood white and heavy with
ice, groaning in the wind, surrounded by sticks and fallen branches.
I stood in the middle of the field, trying to admire the wintry
landscape, but I was feeling the wind through my coat, and the wind-
driven icy snow stung my neck. Trying to look North towards my little
town wasn't worth the effort... the snow and wind was blinding.
Turning back South, the scene was undeniably pretty, the white ground
blending almost imperceptibly into the streetlight lit clouds. I
couldn't really make out the trees on the horizon, but closer trees
shown as indistinct silhouettes against the snow covered ground. I
loved the night before I learned the stars, and this was in it's own
way, a pretty one, if ominously so. I was freezing miserable out
there though, and it was time to head back inside. I labored back
toward my house through the crusty snow, spending as little time as
possible under those groaning trees. I did make a detour into the
back yard to pick up an armload of firewood, just in case the power
fails again. Tomorrow is predicted to be more of the same.
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! And hey
everybody, stay safe...

Marty

Thx for that Marty.

I'm watching old films on TV and as I look at the clock, Midnight
hasn't struck yet where I am. (Sorry to have sent you such weather, it
was just rain when it was overhead here...).

I have some 'new' binoculars to try out, I think they'll be the
viewing hardware of choice during the cold snaps we are getting lately
because there isn't much set up and break down after to deal with.

I'm not getting much poetry out of my prose as you did but I do recall
the peace and quiet and dark sky overhead during the last blackout. If
only it had been 'scheduled' in advance.

Lets us all try and expand that Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men
thing a bit, eh?


berk

On 12/25/09 1:15 AM, Marty wrote:
For the past 40 some years, it has been my personal tradition to be
outdoors at midnight on Christmas... It makes no difference which
midnight, (it's a busy time of year,) but I usually make both.
Tonight was one of the least astronomical, but probably the most
dangerous, that I can remember. My little (pop. 1400) West-Central
Iowa town has been dealing with the widespread ice-storm-blizzard that
has been blasting the American midwest. The roads have been dangerous
and often closed, and the electricity has been off as much as on...
When I went out a little before 10:00pm to get an armload of firewood,
the power had been off since about 5:30. I looked around, the
landscape strangely beautiful without a light in sight... a blurry,
blue-white, almost featureless world of ice and snow. The power came
back on shortly after that, and so my midnight walk took place back
home in the twenty-first century.
The temperature wasn't particularly bitter for a Christmas
midnight at 12 degrees F, (-11 C,) but the hard wind and blowing snow
made the night outright nasty. I put on my heavy coat, gloves, and my
old rabbit fur trooper hat with the flaps down. It made little
difference if I looked like an idiot. The sky was a featureless layer
of gray clouds, now lit by the lights of town. Above those clouds,
Orion would be just west of the meridian, as he is every Christmas
midnight, and Leo would be rising in the East. None of that made much
difference tonight though... Even the first quarter moon left no hint
of it's location. I slogged out into the harvested corn field East of
my house... making any progress was surprisingly hard work... my
boots sometimes broke through the layer of ice and sunk into the snow
halfway up to my knees, other times I wound up stepping up out of a
hole and up onto the surface. God help any traveler stuck out on a
country road... The trees around my house stood white and heavy with
ice, groaning in the wind, surrounded by sticks and fallen branches.
I stood in the middle of the field, trying to admire the wintry
landscape, but I was feeling the wind through my coat, and the wind-
driven icy snow stung my neck. Trying to look North towards my little
town wasn't worth the effort... the snow and wind was blinding.
Turning back South, the scene was undeniably pretty, the white ground
blending almost imperceptibly into the streetlight lit clouds. I
couldn't really make out the trees on the horizon, but closer trees
shown as indistinct silhouettes against the snow covered ground. I
loved the night before I learned the stars, and this was in it's own
way, a pretty one, if ominously so. I was freezing miserable out
there though, and it was time to head back inside. I labored back
toward my house through the crusty snow, spending as little time as
possible under those groaning trees. I did make a detour into the
back yard to pick up an armload of firewood, just in case the power
fails again. Tomorrow is predicted to be more of the same.
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! And hey
everybody, stay safe...

Marty

Thank you Marty!
-Sam

On Dec 25, 1:58*am, TBerk wrote:
Thx for that Marty.

I'm watching old films on TV and as I look at the clock, Midnight
hasn't struck yet where I am. (Sorry to have sent you such weather, it
was just rain when it was overhead here...).

I have some 'new' binoculars to try out, I think they'll be the
viewing hardware of choice during the cold snaps we are getting lately
because there isn't much set up and break down after to deal with.

I'm not getting much poetry out of my prose as you did but I do recall
the peace and quiet and dark sky overhead during the last blackout. If
only it had been 'scheduled' in advance.

Lets us all try and expand that Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men
thing a bit, eh?

berk

TBerk was saying
I have some 'new' binoculars to try out, I think they'll be the
viewing hardware of choice during the cold snaps we are getting lately
because there isn't much set up and break down after to deal with.

That's definitely my way of doing things. It takes something pretty
special to get me to set up my scope on a cold winter night. In fact,
even in the Summer, I check out the sky naked eye most every clear
night, occasionally take out binoculars, and least often, I go out
with my scope. A telescope is a wonderful thing to have, and I love
mine, but sometimes when you're out under a clear sky, they get in the
way... While the power failures were a pain on Christmas Eve day and
ruined a lot of plans, I almost wished it would've lasted for my
midnight walk.

Lets us all try and expand that Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men
thing a bit, eh?

Sounds like a good idea! Seems like I've heard that before...

Marty

On Dec 25, 7:38*am, Sam Wormley wrote:
On 12/25/09 1:15 AM, Marty wrote:



For the past 40 some years, it has been my personal tradition to be
outdoors at midnight on Christmas... It makes no difference which
midnight, (it's a busy time of year,) but I usually make both.
* * * Tonight was one of the least astronomical, but probably the most
dangerous, that I can remember. *My little (pop. 1400) West-Central
Iowa town has been dealing with the widespread ice-storm-blizzard that
has been blasting the American midwest. *The roads have been dangerous
and often closed, and the electricity has been off as much as on...
When I went out a little before 10:00pm to get an armload of firewood,
the power had been off since about 5:30. *I looked around, the
landscape strangely beautiful without a light in sight... a blurry,
blue-white, almost featureless world of ice and snow. *The power came
back on shortly after that, and so my midnight walk took place back
home in the twenty-first century.
* * * The temperature wasn't particularly bitter for a Christmas
midnight at 12 degrees F, (-11 C,) but the hard wind and blowing snow
made the night outright nasty. *I put on my heavy coat, gloves, and my
old rabbit fur trooper hat with the flaps down. *It made little
difference if I looked like an idiot. *The sky was a featureless layer
of gray clouds, now lit by the lights of town. *Above those clouds,
Orion would be just west of the meridian, as he is every Christmas
midnight, and Leo would be rising in the East. *None of that made much
difference tonight though... Even the first quarter moon left no hint
of it's location. *I slogged out into the harvested corn field East of
my house... *making any progress was surprisingly hard work... *my
boots sometimes broke through the layer of ice and sunk into the snow
halfway up to my knees, other times I wound up stepping up out of a
hole and up onto the surface. *God help any traveler stuck out on a
country road... *The trees around my house stood white and heavy with
ice, groaning in the wind, surrounded by sticks and fallen branches.
I stood in the middle of the field, trying to admire the wintry
landscape, but I was feeling the wind through my coat, and the wind-
driven icy snow stung my neck. *Trying to look North towards my little
town wasn't worth the effort... *the snow and wind was blinding.
Turning back South, the scene was undeniably pretty, the white ground
blending almost imperceptibly into the streetlight lit clouds. *I
couldn't really make out the trees on the horizon, but closer trees
shown as indistinct silhouettes against the snow covered ground. *I
loved the night before I learned the stars, and this was in it's own
way, a pretty one, if ominously so. *I was freezing miserable out
there though, and it was time to head back inside. *I labored back
toward my house through the crusty snow, spending as little time as
possible under those groaning trees. *I did make a detour into the
back yard to pick up an armload of firewood, just in case the power
fails again. *Tomorrow is predicted to be more of the same.
* * * I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! *And hey
everybody, stay safe...

Marty

* *Thank you Marty!
* -Sam

And thanks for being Sam, Sam! Merry Christmas!
Marty

On Dec 25, 2:45*pm, Marty wrote:

And thanks for being Sam, Sam! *Merry Christmas!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Marty

Let's here it for Sam! Tireless signaller and all round good guy of
s.a.a.

Merry Christmas to the bright beacon in a methane ocean of noise.

As for the rest: You know who you are.

All are equal amid the stars.

But some are more blue giant than micro black hole. :-)

With a few minutes to spare, I bundled up and headed out for my
midnight walk on the other side of Christmas. Tonight was only a few
degrees warmer at 15 degrees F, and the snow was deeper, but it wasn't
nearly as blatantly dangerous as the last night, and much prettier. I
laboriously punched my way through the snow most of the way out to the
middle of the harvested corn field by my house. There was no sound
aside from the wind and the crunching snow. The stars of Christmas
were still hidden by heavy cloud cover, but the clouds didn't seem to
be as brightly lit as the night before... I'd guess the lack of
blowing snow made the difference. "Leaden" may be an overused word,
but it describes the dull, dark, sky well. Tonight, the fresh white
snow cover was in sharp contrast to the dark clouds, and the horizon
was sharply delineated all around. The trees were still heavily
laminated with ice a good three quarters of an inch thick, and they
stood out bright against the clouds. Looking West, back at my street,
the annoyingly unshielded street lights lit them up like chandeliers.
Turning North, the streetlights of my little town reflected off the
snow and ice, and threw glitter across the ice coated trees. The
night was worthless for stargazing, so I'll allow the streetlights
some decorative merit on this Christmas midnight. It was a "Christmas
Card" night. Before going back inside, I trudged out onto the street
in front of my house... most of the houses on my street are older,
and lend themselves well to Christmas scenery. (I live in the last
one on the dead end.) The night was beautiful, but I obviously wasn't
going to be going anywhere until I did some more shoveling and the
snowplows came by again. Oh well, I'm a little achy from scooping
snow, but we had electricity all day today!
Whether your plans went as they should have or not, I hope you
all had a Merry Christmas!

Marty

Marty wrote:

With a few minutes to spare, I bundled up and headed out for my
midnight walk on the other side of Christmas. Tonight was only a few
degrees warmer at 15 degrees F, and the snow was deeper, but it wasn't
nearly as blatantly dangerous as the last night, and much prettier. I
laboriously punched my way through the snow most of the way out to the
middle of the harvested corn field by my house. There was no sound
aside from the wind and the crunching snow. The stars of Christmas
were still hidden by heavy cloud cover, but the clouds didn't seem to
be as brightly lit as the night before... I'd guess the lack of
blowing snow made the difference. "Leaden" may be an overused word,
but it describes the dull, dark, sky well. Tonight, the fresh white
snow cover was in sharp contrast to the dark clouds, and the horizon
was sharply delineated all around. The trees were still heavily
laminated with ice a good three quarters of an inch thick, and they
stood out bright against the clouds. Looking West, back at my street,
the annoyingly unshielded street lights lit them up like chandeliers.
Turning North, the streetlights of my little town reflected off the
snow and ice, and threw glitter across the ice coated trees. The
night was worthless for stargazing, so I'll allow the streetlights
some decorative merit on this Christmas midnight. It was a "Christmas
Card" night. Before going back inside, I trudged out onto the street
in front of my house... most of the houses on my street are older,
and lend themselves well to Christmas scenery. (I live in the last
one on the dead end.) The night was beautiful, but I obviously wasn't
going to be going anywhere until I did some more shoveling and the
snowplows came by again. Oh well, I'm a little achy from scooping
snow, but we had electricity all day today!
Whether your plans went as they should have or not, I hope you
all had a Merry Christmas!

Marty


Thanks Marty, always a pleasure to read.
A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year my old friend...

--
Gareth Slee

On Dec 31, 3:47*am, (Gareth Slee) wrote:
Marty wrote:
With a few minutes to spare, I bundled up and headed out for my
midnight walk on the other side of Christmas. *Tonight was only a few
degrees warmer at 15 degrees F, and the snow was deeper, but it wasn't
nearly as blatantly dangerous as the last night, and much prettier. *I
laboriously punched my way through the snow most of the way out to the
middle of the harvested corn field by my house. *There was no sound
aside from the wind and the crunching snow. *The stars of Christmas
were still hidden by heavy cloud cover, but the clouds didn't seem to
be as brightly lit as the night before... *I'd guess the lack of
blowing snow made the difference. *"Leaden" may be an overused word,
but it describes the dull, dark, sky well. *Tonight, the fresh white
snow cover was in sharp contrast to the dark clouds, and the horizon
was sharply delineated all around. *The trees were still heavily
laminated with ice a good three quarters of an inch thick, and they
stood out bright against the clouds. *Looking West, back at my street,
the annoyingly unshielded street lights lit them up like chandeliers.
Turning North, the streetlights of my little town reflected off the
snow and ice, and threw glitter across the ice coated trees. *The
night was worthless for stargazing, so I'll allow the streetlights
some decorative merit on this Christmas midnight. *It was a "Christmas
Card" night. *Before going back inside, I trudged out onto the street
in front of my house... *most of the houses on my street are older,
and lend themselves well to Christmas scenery. *(I live in the last
one on the dead end.) *The night was beautiful, but I obviously wasn't
going to be going anywhere until I did some more shoveling and the
snowplows came by again. *Oh well, I'm a little achy from scooping
snow, but we had electricity all day today!
* * *Whether your plans went as they should have or not, I hope you
all had a Merry Christmas!

Marty

Thanks Marty, always a pleasure to read.
A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year my old friend...

--
Gareth Slee

Thanks Gareth, and great to hear from you! Wishing you, your wife,
and Hannah, a Happy New Year!