Duck Weather.

Folks—friends and fans of graphical representation of what's coming our way—we haven't done this in a while, so feast your eyes on what's bubbling ANYLFward from the Gulf and Gulf states:


And here, worders: this from the fancies at NOAA, capital-letter excited, as always, about the goings-on:

RAIN WILL BECOME WIDESPREAD ACROSS CENTRAL NORTH CAROLINA LATE TODAY AND CONTINUE THROUGH TONIGHT. NO FLOODING IS EXPECTED...BUT RAINFALL AMOUNTS ARE LIKELY TO EXCEED ONE INCH...ESPECIALLY WEST OF INTERSTATE 95. AS SUCH...DRIVING CONDITIONS COULD BE HAZARDOUS TONIGHT DUE TO STANDING WATER AND REDUCED VISIBILITY.

What we're experiencing now is what I'm not going to be afraid to call a precursor. Mist. Fog. Yellow leaves falling out of the backyard maple. What we'll have later on is what I'm now remembering my mother used to call Duck Weather. It'd be raining hard, and it'd be coldish, and we kids would be whining about the grave injustice of having to play inside, and she'd say how happy the ducks must be out there, and that would somehow satisfy us, at least in part. I can't say why. All I can say is that I can remember standing there, looking out through those sliding doors on Goodfellows Road, thinking about all the happy ducks.

Ornithological note: We didn't have any ducks anywhere near us. None. Nobody ever raised that argument, though, that I can recall.