Other Landscapes.

So interesting to be somewhere else: a new way the clouds come in, a new way the wind smells, a new way the sky clears off, lightens and darkens. Here, weather from the west, generally. Which is over the top of the backyard fence. Southwest, northwest: still, give or take, the backyard fence. Stay a few nights somewhere with no such compass, though, and it takes a while to recalibrate the instruments for altitude, for latitude and longitude, for most of the other itudes.

A third of an inch of rain from last night's storm, says the airport. I had been considering purchasing the several-hundred-dollar fancyass digital weather station (with rain gauge with self-emptying cups, for those who need such things) for myself, but it comes to this: I've got links on this page to local stations far more fancyass than I can afford, and even besides that, there's something appealing about Christmasing myself not with electronics more sophisticated than those that landed Buzz Aldrin on the moon, but with the plain old plastic millimetered rain gauge that stabs into the ground in the garden. Forget to empty it? You don't know how much rain you got. Want to know how much rain you got? Take yourself a look.

Nothing against the electric. I still want one with a good part of my soul. But for now, I'm going to try it the inexact way.

The local report for last night's/this morning's storm: The nice canvas deck chair I forgot to put away before we left is full of water. The flowerbeds are wet through. It's cleared off, but it still feels wet. The airport and NOAA and the digitals all say more rain's coming by the end of the week. I believe them.

The not-so-local report: Accumulating sleet last night in 28805. Ice on the roadsides this afternoon until the mountain; cross back over and it's just wet.

Fifties today in both zip codes. Warm winter blue sky in both as well. And to all a good night.