Kevin Myatt's Weather Journal at roanoke.com

March 29, 2004

IF IT QUACKS LIKE A HURRICANE ...

Imagine if you looked up to the west and saw the nearest mountain -- we'll say Fort Lewis Mountain for you Roanoke Valley folks -- puffing out a huge cloud of smoke and ash.

You saw on television aerial photos of a huge, gaping crater in the top of the mountain, and huge clouds of dust billowing out of it. You saw lava pouring out of the crater, and rocks flying high into the air. Then, you heard that faraway geological experts from California and Washington were declaring this to be a volcano, the first in recorded history in the Appalachians.

But local officials were saying "No, this is not a volcano. It's just a forest fire in a slight depression of the mountain. We don't have volcanoes here. There's no cause for alarm."

Who would you believe?

If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck ... well, you know what it is.

Something similar happened in Brazil this weekend. A storm system off the coast began rotating rapidly, and then developed an eye. Tropical forecasters in the United States declared that the storm was a hurricane, the first on record in the South Atlantic Ocean (No one can say for sure it was the first ever, since satellites and worldwide communication are fairly recent innovations). But the Brazilian forecasters denied it, declaring it to be a run-of-the-mill, non-tropical low pressure area with winds about 50 mph. Hurricanes don't happen here, they declared. The Americans don't know what they're talking about.

No offense, but any second-grader looking at the satellite photos of this storm could have told you it was a hurricane. Of course, it was spinning the opposite direction from what hurricanes spin in the Northern Hemisphere. Otherwise, it was walking and quacking like a duck. Perhaps Brazilian officials just did not want to incite panic in a heavily populated region.

Then the storm came ashore in southern Brazil. Without reconaissance aircraft and very many wind-measuring devices, it's hard to tell how strong the winds were, but even the Brazilian forecasters had to admit they were probably up to 95 mph, making it a strong Category 1 or weak Category 2 hurricane. As of Sunday night, at least two people were dead, hundreds of homes were destroyed and thousands were damaged.

Why this storm became a hurricane in a region where upper level winds generally preclude their development will be a puzzle that atmospheric scientists will be unraveling for years to come.

ONE LAST CRACK AT SNOW?

If it is going to snow measurably again in our area before next winter, quite likely, Thursday night and Friday will be the last chance, and it is a remote one.

Colder air will be building in behind a front passing at midweek, and there is some indication a strong upper level low with its attending pool of cold air aloft will move our direction on Thursday and Friday. This setup has triggered wet snow in the past, especially on mountaintops, but it's marginal at best. It probably won't quite be cold enough in most areas.

Tuesday is the one-year anniversary of the infamous Bradford pear-buster, when gloriously blooming decorative trees all over Roanoke were broken by 4 to 7 inches of wet snow. Blacksburg got 8 inches, and some places had up to 10. It wasn't as freaky as a hurricane in Brazil, but it was weird.

This week's weather will probably be dominated by something more common to spring: Rain. And lots of it, especially Tuesday.

March 25, 2004

WATCH THE BACKDOOR FOR A SMALL CHILL

So quickly, we have gone from Tuesday morning's record lows (12 at Blacksburg, 21 at Roanoke) to giddy warmth that will have blossoms popping everywhere.

Spring has again shown its chaotic nature. Low pressure in the western United States was successful in knocking down the big high that was spinning cold air our way. Now, the high that's affecting us is more to the southeast, and we're catching west and southwest winds circulating clockwise around the top of it, pushing temperatures into the 60s and 70s.

Some places in our area could have 60-degree temperature swings from Tuesday morning to today.

But there is a feature that could play havoc with weekend warmth. It's something that's unique to the eastern United States, called a "backdoor cold front." They can be great heat-breakers in the summertime. This time of year, they just stymie warmups.

Cold fronts usually come at us from the west or northwest. That's the way the jet stream comes at us, and the fronts simply ride along. But sometimes they try to slink our way from the north or the northeast. This is the "backdoor." The cool air rides down the east side of the mountains behind the front. It's similar to the cold-air damming setup that's the bugaboo of winter forecasting.

We have such a front coming our way over the weekend. There may be just enough high pressure in Canada, and just enough weakness in the high pressure ridge to our southeast, to allow this front to slide over us. It's more than a bit iffy and fuzzy, though, and the uncertainty makes temperature prediction a big gamble this weekend.

As of Thursday, the National Weather Service was betting on this front stuggling to move southward against the west winds present at the surface and aloft. Perhaps it won't make it through here or it will just wash out. Also, it looks like there will be little cloud cover or precipitation associated with the front, as the moisture levels do not look especially thick in front of it and are parched dry behind it.

So, for now, forecasters are calling for warm readings in the upper 60s and low 70s right through the weekend. They're betting on bright sunshine boosting daytime readings even behind the front, if it makes it through.

But there's a caveat mentioned in weather service's forecast discussions. If the front comes through with decent strength, or it causes low clouds to hang in longer along the Blue Ridge, as is fairly common with cool air masses wedging southward in the warmer months, the temperatures might fall well short of expectations. Since we'll probably be starting in the 40s, cloudy, damp weather could mean we don't get out of the 40s, or perhaps only struggle into the 50s.

So there's about a 30-degree margin for error on Saturday and Sunday high temperatures, and it's a subtle change that could make all the difference between shorts and coats. Welcome to spring.

March 24, 2004

FOR THE RECORD ...

There were indeed record lows set Tuesday morning.

Blacksburg fell to 12 degrees, breaking the old record of 14 for the date, set in 1969. Roanoke fell to 21, breaking the old record of 22 set in 1986.

No more of that. A warmup begins.

March 22, 2004

SPRING CHILL

Come Tuesday morning, it may be the coldest March 23 morning on record.

Roanoke's previous record low for the date is 22; Blacksburg's is 14. Forecasted lows were expected to be close to these levels this morning.

Many of you saw occasional snow flurries Sunday and Monday, even heavier snow showers and snow squalls the farther west and higher one gets from the Roanoke Valley. Some places even got some accumulation.

So, has spring gone and unsprung itself?

Hardly. Many like to idealize spring as a time of warm, sunny days and blooming flowers, but the truth is that there's lots of blustery, chilliness to get through in any spring. Spring is a time of change, true, but that change also tends to cause vigorous storm systems and fronts to move through, bringing with them precipitation, gusty winds with temperature changes.

Tuesday morning's expected near-record cold hasn't even sufficient for the National Weather Service to issue freeze or frost warnings. The reason these weren't issued is because such warnings are only issued after the average date of the last freeze in an area, which ranges from mid-April to mid-May in our area, depending on elevation. Because we're not past that date, we don't have a heavy array of budding and blooming things yet for the cold to nip. So, no freeze warning.

But, for you lovers of the idealized spring, there is change afoot that you will like.

The cold we're having is being caused by a "PNA-positive" jet stream pattern that consists of a high over Canada and the western United States and a low pressure trough in the East. The jet stream rides high to the north over the western high, then dips far south under the eastern low, transporting cold air out of Canada in our direction.

A strong low pressure area over the Pacific will move ashore later this week, effectively eroding the high in the west, and pushing it farther east. The jet stream will lose the steepness from the north, and become more zonal, which means more of an east-to-west trajectory than big arches north and south. The low pressure trough over us will also shift offshore.

The result, in a nutshell, will be warmer weather by late in the week into early next week.

Looking more broadly, we also see the polar vortex, or the core of the super-cold air that moves around the pole through the winter season, retreating farther and farther north. The farther this gets away from us, the harder it will be for systems to transport this frigid air our direction. Even when cold fronts do come through, the air will more often come out of the Pacific or lower Canada rather than the Arctic. This is why weather people sometimes get in the habit of calling these "cool fronts" rather than cold fronts as we get deeper in the season.

There's also the sun angle getting higher and the longer days. Any cold air shots that move down are warmed more quickly.

For those hoping for one more decent snow, it doesn't look like the setup is favorable. Over the next several days, it doesn't look like the cold and moisture can intersect as they did last March 30. Once we get into April, measurable snow is still a distant possiblity, but it requires a near-perfect alignment of factors to make it snow more than a few flakes, and accumulation at that point is usually limited to higher mountain elevations.

Don't let one cold morning fool you: Spring is here, and the months-long march toward lazy, hazy, summer days has begun. But we could still get a few goosebumps along the way.

March 18, 2004

DON'T GET CAUGHT IN THESE SPIN CYCLES

Like politics, meteorology is all about spin.

Nearly everything significant in weather revolves around rotation. On a large scale, broad high and low pressure areas offer clockwise and counter-clockwise flows of air, respectively, in the Northern Hemisphere, dictating our weather patterns. But it is on the small scale where spin can become a whirling dervish of misery and destruction.

The most intense version of atmospheric spin is the tornado, with winds of 100, 200, even 300 mph whipping around a tube usually only a few hundred yards wide, rarely more than a mile. But what many people don't realize is that before the twister twists, the thunderstorm that spawns is often already cutting is own doughnuts in the atmosphere. Called "supercells," these rotating thunderstorms can wreak havoc on their own whether or not they ever send a tornado to the turf.

Supercells are the rogue elephants of the thunderstorm jungle. They're the dangerous loners, the prima donnas that command the center stage. They'd never associate with their weaker fellows who prefer to link arms and form squall lines.

In a broad sense, when cool, dry air encounters warm, moist air, there is a potential for thunderstorms. If conditions are ripe enough, atmospheric energy may become concentrated in localized columns of convection, which is warm air rising into the colder layers above. If "caps" of sinking air associated with high pressure systems are not present to stop the upward push, these columns may grow billowing cumulonimbus clouds to build 10, 12, even 14 miles into the atmosphere, sometimes called towers.

A supercell becomes a turbulent system of updrafts and downdrafts that can produce high winds, large hail, torrential rain and prolific, vivid lightning. At the height at which supercell towers reach, they encounter many different layers of wind that may be blowing in opposite directions. Imagine taking a baseball bat between your hands. As you move one hand toward you and the other away from you, the bat spins. So then does the supercell thunderstorm when pushed between opposing wind streams.

What is not fully understood is how the supercell transfers this spin in a more, narrow intense way to the tornado. It's further complicated by the fact that not all supercells produce tornadoes, and not all tornadoes form from supercells. The vast majority of the most destructive and deadly twisters, though, are supercell spawn.

But, somehow, it happens. The supercell's spin is intensified in a portion of the storm called a "mesocyclone," which can be an area of the storm several miles wide, usually in the southwest flank. The mesocyclone, in turn, begets the tornado, where the spin is its most intense and localized and extends to the earth's surface.

Back to the politics analogy. Think of one of your least favorite presidential candidate's economic policies -- I don't care which one. This broad national policy may be spun on a regional level to describe how it will effect a certain industry, then spun again on a local level to describe how it will effect jobs in your community. Similarly, the broad spin of a supercell is transferred to the mesocyclone and then to the tornado.

The result could be the same with either kind of spin: You could end up losing your house.

March 15, 2004

A THREAT ALL THE SAME

Virginia is not tornado alley. It's not even the gutter of tornado alley. That doesn't mean we shouldn't be prepared for tornadoes. Tuesday has been declared Tornado Preparedness Day in Virginia by Gov. Mark Warner.

To get a snapshot of tornado activity in Virginia, let's take a look at the last 50 years, as reported by the Virginia Department of Emergency Management. Since 1953, 27 people have been killed by tornadoes in Virginia. Hurricane Isabel alone killed 36 within the Old Dominion last September. So statistically, it's not the biggest weather threats, but that infrequency can make it all the more dangerous when it does happen.

The majority of Virginia's tornadoes -- 299 of the 428 reported since 1953 -- are weak F0 and F1 tornadoes. Tornado intensity is measured on the Fujita scale, which ranges from F0 to F5. F0 tornadoes have winds of 72 mph or less; F1 twisters range from 73 to 112 mph. In all of these 299 weak tornadoes in the last half-century, only one person has been killed.

As we move up the scale, three people have been killed in the state's 72 F2 tornadoes (113-157 mph winds). Most of the state's tornado deaths since 1953 -- 19 -- have occurred in 29 F3 twisters (158-206 mph winds). Virginia has only had two F4 tornadoes (207-260 mph winds) in that period, killing two people. However, those two F4s account for 248 of the 519 tornado injuries. An F5 tornado has never been reported in Virginia. Most of these monsters, capable of reducing not just neighborhoods but subdivisions to scrap wood, attack the wide-open plains of "Tornado Alley" -- principally Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas.

Virginia's geography, particularly that of Western Virginia, often inhibits the large-scale atmospheric conditions necessary for massive outbreaks of tornadoes, or particularly powerful ones. Let me emphasize what I'm not saying here: A location near or between mountains does not -- DOES NOT -- offer immunity from tornadoes. I once covered a tornado in another state that climbed up and down successive 800-1,200 foot ridges, devastating homes on ridges and valleys alike. In May 1929, a devastating tornado ripped through the heart of Bath and Allegheny Counties.

But what the mountains can do is much the same as in winter: They can trap cooler, drier air masses to the east of the mountains, which dampen severe thunderstorms, or block warm, moist air masses moving in from the south. Mountains also can interfere with low-level winds and updrafts near developing or weak tornadoes. This is why tornadoes are rare, though not totally unheard of, in our more mountainous counties. Most of Virginia's tornadoes occur farther east in the Piedmont and coastal plain where sultry air from the ocean has an easier time penetrating, and where the effects of mountainous terrain are lessened. Also, many of Virginia's tornadoes are spun off from landfalling hurricanes, which also favor the eastern areas of the state.

So the danger of tornadoes here is not in their frequency, but in their infrequency. The governor and a weather geek want to remind you of that threat today.

March 11, 2004

WINTER PLEASED FEW, FRUSTRATED MANY

On Wednesday morning, snowflakes tumbled out of the sky, profusely for a while. They collected on a few tufts of grass and car tops here and there in the Roanoke Valley, and accumulated a bit more deeply the higher one rose in elevation.

But by 10 a.m., any remnant of snow was gone in the valley, so if you got up late, you may not even know that it snowed. From my window, I watched the white coating shrink as the snow line rapidly moved higher up the mountains, until it was almost gone by noon.

I wondered if this might be the last time I would be seeing white out my window until next winter. My guess, with a pattern that may be favoring storms moving more inland beginning with a rainmaker early next week, is that it will be. But I'm one the said it wouldn't snow before Christmas.

On the satellite picture, I admired the rapidly winding surface low off of Tidewater. Under different circumstances, this could have been a really deep snow. But like so many storms this season, it was out to sea ... or as I like to say, wide right.

Perhaps all of that is metaphorical for winter 2003-04 as a whole, a winter that somehow managed to be not wholly pleasing to snow-lovers and snow-haters alike.

There were several decent snows this winter in our area, but no big storm to remember. We ended up with 21.9 inches at Roanoke Regional Airport, which is just a shade less than normal; Blacksburg has had 34.7 inches, a few inches more than normal. Most of the snows that did fall turned crunchy with an ice and sleet coating on top, ruining the joy of a fluffy snow for snow misers and just making a mess for anyone who had to drive in it.

This was the second straight winter that made Southwest Virginia snow fans feel more like Cubs or Red Sox fans, as chance after chance for the "big one" went by the boards. Two big missed chances for this were in early and late February, the first a storm tracking favorably deep to the south with lots of moisture that just ran out of cold air and left us with ice and rain, the second a big snowstorm that pummelled Charlotte but hit a pocket of dry air over us.

Fans of mild winters saw November's promise of warmth dashed by an early December snow/ice storm that, little did we know at the time, would turn into Roanoke's biggest snow of the season with 7.3 inches total on Dec. 3-4. A warmup that pushed temperatures to the never-before-seen mid-70s in early January was followed within five days by 4 inches of snow and temperatures in the teens.

The two big factors that dominated this winter were persistent Arctic high pressure over southeast Canada and the northeast U.S., and a jet stream that roared out of the Pacific. The first brought severe bitter cold to New England and kept enough cold air here for a winter that averaged about a degree below normal in temperature. The second kept wet storm systems coming but sped most of them along too fast to really crank up along the Gulf of Mexico.

By February, the Arctic high became such an immovable object that the jet stream itself was pushed to the south, and the storms bumped along below us, creating repeating forecasting nightmares as we scraped along the northern edge. With the high pushing south and the jet stream speeding along, not much had a chance to develop along the Gulf and then move up the coast, our best track for big winter storms. It became a Carolina winter.

New England barely beat Carolina in the Super Bowl, but Carolina trounced New England in February snowfall. How often does Charlotte get close to six times as much snow as Boston in February? (13.2 inches to 2.4) How often does Dallas edge out New York City? (1.0 to .7)

The humbling power of weather. Now we look deeper into spring world of rain, thunderstorms and ever-increasing warmth — unless there's one last winter surprise awaiting us.

MARCH 10, 2004

NO BIGGIE

An upper level low -- one of those cold pools of air high in the atmosphere -- approaching from the west has triggered a small blob of snow over Southwest Virginia this morning. A developing surface low on the coast, one that will become quite a powerful nor’easter, but out to sea, is supplying just enough moisture.

A few high elevation areas are seeing a significant snow this morning, with up to 5 inches in some parts of Craig County, but most of us are getting light snow sticking here and there in the grass. It won’t last long and won’t be a big deal.

Western upslope areas may get some more snow showers on Thursday with a new cold front. A bigger storm early next week looks to be a mild rainmaker.

MARCH 8, 2004

WHY IT'S WINDY

When seasons clash, there is often lots of wind.

We experienced this on Sunday evening when a strong cold front barrelled into the mild high pressure that had kept our region in its embrace for most of the past week. Winds gusted as high as 51 mph at the Roanoke Regional Airport, and some 60-mph gusts with tree damage were scattered across the area.

Wind is one of those things in life we take for granted and don't really think much about -- until it gets nasty.

You've heard the expression "the winds of change." In meteorology, it might be a better expression to say "the wind is change." Almost anytime there is gusty wind, there are some major atmospheric changes in the works, or at least, the collision of differing air masses.

One of the biggest drivers of wind is the "pressure gradient," or the change from areas of high pressure to area of low pressure. If you think of the "H's" on the weather map as mountains, and the "L's" as valleys or depressions, you can imagine the wind flowing downhill, so to speak, from the tops of the H's to the bottom of the L's. It figures that when the high is higher, and the low is lower, the downhill flow will be speeded up. Also, if the high and low are closer together, there is a more precipitous cliff between the two, so the wind flows faster "downhill."

Another important concept: high in the atmosphere above the surface, the winds are almost always blowing much more strongly than here in ground level. Under certain atmospheric circumstances, when there is instability with updrafts or downdrafts, some of these upper level wind fields can get bent toward the surface and increase winds on the ground. Thunderstorms and tornadoes represent extreme examples of this principle, but something like last night's front can help "mix" the upper level winds toward the surface.

Both of these principles, plus a sizeable temperature change, were at work in last night's gusts. Mountains scraping higher into the atmosphere than the surrounding land and valleys funneling wind also enhance the effects in our particular area. As long as spring and winter keep wrestling, you can expect more March gusts.

Snow Tuesday?

There was some excitement a couple of days ago about a system moving our way today, but it looks more and more like the bulk of it will move around our area to the west and south.

Plus, it is one of those Alberta clipper kind of storms, coming from northwest to southeast across the mountains, that are hard-pressed to get any moisture to this side. So, some snowflakes, maybe, but a big March snow, almost certainly not.

Final score

The Old Farmer's Almanac, from November to February for our area, got 49 days right and 72 wrong, for just a little better than 40 percent accuracy. Just to wrap up one detail from the winter.

I hope to get to that promised winter recap, that I delayed last week, later this week.

MARCH 4, 2004

SPRING CLASSIC

The season's first large-scale severe weather outbreak is in the works for the southern Plains this afternoon and evening. This is the result of a vigorous storm system that will also be a major player in our weather, so I am going to suspend my plans to recap winter today and instead focus on the next few days.

A classic spring storm is unfolding across the central and eastern U.S. The trigger is an upper level low pressure area that came ashore in California earlier this week and was in northern Mexico on Thursday.

High-atmospheric disturbances that trigger severe weather in the Plains are no different than those that cause winter storms. They only differ in the environment they move into. These high-altitude lows feature a pocket of cold air aloft, which when combined with surface warming, set up a perfect environment for massive thunderstorm clouds to bubble upward to 6-10 miles above the ground as the warm air rises. The counterclockwise circulation of the upper low also serves to sweep in deep moisture throughout the atmosphere, originating in this case in both the Pacific Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico.

A surface low developing over Texas will strengthen and shoot northeastward toward the Great Lakes overnight. As it does, it will drag a strong cold front eastward into the juicy air mass ahead of it. The cold front acts like a plow, lifting the air ahead of it. The more lift is generated, the higher the thunderstorms form, and the more threat there is for big wind and hail.

There 's also a threat for isolated thunderstorms in the warm, humid air mass to begin rotating, and possibly spawn tornadoes. These are called "supercells," the deadly mavericks of the severe weather world, as opposed to the thunderstorms in squall lines marching in lock step with one another.

As spring continues, I will be writing more extensively on the mechanics of thunderstorm and tornado development.

The front will eventually arrive in our area Friday night and early Saturday. Though a few rumbles of thunder may occur, we don't have the full dynamics in place for severe thunderstorms, but we will have a plume of thick moisture available from the Gulf of Mexico for some rather heavy rain. Amounts of around 1-1 1/2 inches will be common, and some places could top 2 inches.

Part of what makes this a classic early spring storm is that there is a winter component to it. Some areas of Wisconsin, Minnesota and the upper peninsula of Michigan, on into Canada, will get a significant snowstorm out of this, as the moisture whips around the backside of the low into colder air, creating a "deformation zone" like I wrote about last week.

By Sunday night, enough cold air may circulate around the departing low, by then in Canada, to trigger upslope snow showers in the West Virgina and far southwestern Virginia mountains.

Told you we weren't entirely done with winterlike weather.

What's more is that this storm will be powerful enough to knock down the high pressure ridge that's given us this lovely springlike week. It's like a bowling ball taking out a pin, scoring a spare for winter.

By next week, we will be back to some chilly though not frigid days. We still have to keep watching these pockets of cold air aloft and the accompanying moisture coming our way for the possibility of March snow. A few such disturbances are incoming toward the middle of next week, but none yet look like they will score a strike for winter.

March 1, 2004

IT'S SPRING -- EVEN FEELS LIKE IT

Folks, winter's over.

Before I hear cheering or sobbing, depending on your view of winter, let me add that it does not necessarily mean the end of at least some winterlike weather.

What I am primarily referring to is that meteorological spring began on Monday, the first day of March. Meteorologists don't bother waiting around for equinoxes and solstices and such to change seasons. They just chop things off nice and tidy at the start and end of months. December, January, and February are winter; March, April and May are spring. Therefore, it's spring.

Right on time, the current weather pattern has a signficant springlike flavor to it, and there's no signs of major change to it over the next week to 10 days.

High pressure has been building over the southeastern United States, allowing more warm air from the south to move up. The storm track has shifted a bit to the west, dipping down in the middle of the nation and then lifting up over the high, causing thunderstorms to develop in the Plains and only dragging weak cold fronts of Pacific origin through our region. The "polar vortex," the core of the blob of super cold air that dances around the pole during winter, has retreated to far northwest Canada after spending much of the last two months over southeast Canada and the northeast U.S.

As spring begins to show its true colors, intrusions of Arctic air into the continental United States become weaker and farther spaced. They can still happen, and probably will, at least once or twice more between now and mid-April.

Most likely, we are through with prolonged below-freezing weather this year. With the jet stream dynamics changing, favoring Pacific and subtropical storms over Arctic systems, plus the higher sun angle and the longer days, any Arctic outbreaks from now on will most likely be quick-hitters.

As for snow, we almost always see at least snowflakes in the air during March and sometimes even into early April. As for big snows, it all depends on abundant moisture arriving exactly during one of the quick-hitting cold snaps. Last March 30's Bradford pear-buster, when 4-8 inches of wet snow caused many heavily blooming trees to break, shows the potential for what can happen.

There is always some chance of a large coastal storm developing, and many meteorlogists call such systems in mid-March "equinox storms." The seasonal shifting from cold jet stream patterns to warm patterns can spin off enough energy for some unusual storms, and these can change normalcy to weirdness in a few days. Many of you remember March 13-15, 1993, the infamous SuperStorm, which left 1-3 feet of snow across our area. Others may even remember the Ash Wednesday storm of 1962, which barreled ashore across Virginia causing hurricane-like coastal damage and massive snows inland.

Most years, however, do not produce a coastal storm of that magnitude, or a winter storm beyond a couple of inches of slush. Much meteorological attention begins shifting west this time of year to Tornado Alley, where the annual severe weather drama begins kicking off. By April and into May we get some of that, but nothing on the order of the Midwest.

Spring is usually a pretty docile season here in western Virginia, as flowers bud out amid increasingly warm days, interrupted with some rainy days and a few frosty cold snaps. At least for the beginning of March, things look pretty tranquil and amazingly normal, if not a bit warmer than normal.

On Friday, we'll recap this past winter, and let it enter the history books. Though I will be here to discuss any white weirdness we get this month, I'm ready to begin moving on to other fascinating aspects of our ever-changing weather.

WEATHER JOURNAL