On and On . . .: Weather Spotting

Ten years ago or so, I attended a class to become an official “weather spotter” for the National Weather Service. Every year since, I have gone to the NWS annual three-hour training seminar to obtain recertification. Adam has always accompanied me, and, a few years ago, he was finally old enough to become a “spotter” himself. Nancy, and, most recently, Richie, are also “weather spotters.” From the time I first became certified, there has never been any bad weather in our area. Well, last June there was a severe storm that blew through our neighborhood, but it occurred while we were at Pattye’s house celebrating Julia’s birthday. On that particular day, the National Weather Service office actually phoned our house, presumably for current weather conditions. We were disappointed that we missed that call, and that we missed the thunderstorm as well. But, hey, Julia only turns five one time.

Late yesterday afternoon, while Adam was at work, and Jim was driving home, some dark, swirling cumulonimbus clouds began developing outside. We are so used to being taunted by would-be storms brewing nearby, only to have them fizzle out when they close in on us, that Jacob and I barely took notice. When the clouds continued to march towards our house, we snapped a few pictures. Some gusty winds toppled the chairs on our deck, but they quickly subsided. It rained a little bit, and I assumed that since the sky was already starting to lighten, this latest squall was already dissipating. As usual. Then, without warning, a few hailstones bounced to the ground. Curiously, they were good sized – almost an inch in diameter – but they were random and intermittent. All of a sudden, as if out of nowhere, hail began pounding the house. It looked like it was snowing outside, and it was LOUD! Jacob and I were running around excitedly, taking pictures and reaching out the door struggling to grab some souvenir hailstones without getting pummeled in the process. I placed a plastic cup on the deck hoping to seize some mementos, but it was immediately cracked by the flying ice pellets. I judged the size of the hailstones, frantically trying to determine if they were large enough to warrant a phone-in report to the National Weather Service office. In my wishy-washiness, I did what every good “spotter” would do. I called Adam. I attempted to describe the hail size to him, and in his calm, wise, yet somewhat condescending tone, he advised me to “just get a ruler and measure it.” The average hailstones were ½ inch in diameter, so, as per the NWS guidelines, I phoned in my report. Jim arrived home shortly after the storm ended, having amazingly driven through it with no visual damage to his car. Jacob and I ran around outside, scooping up piles of the icy balls to keep in the freezer. Adam ridiculed me later for taking pictures of the hail next to a ruler, but, really, how often do you get nice sized hailstones like these?