WeatherFlow Tempest Installed

 I haven't had a weather station since the LaCrosse gave up the ghost many years ago. I've watched how the newer stations have come down in price and gone up in capability. And yet what I consider the top of the line Davis was too expensive for me. And the Ambient unit didn't have the wireless range (only 80') to site the sensor where it was convenient.

 In 2018 when WeatherFlow began working on a "no moving parts" station, I was intrigued. How could they manage wind speed/direction without a weather vane and cups? And even more so, how could they measure rainfall without a tipping bucket?

 Two years later they have what I'd call a third generation of the station available and without the long wait times. I ordered one on July 23. It was delivered on July 27.

[commercial photo]

 Wind, by the way, is measured with ultrasonic transducers (the speed of sound varies in moving air) and I assume triangulation gives direction. Unlike cups, the Tempest responds almost to a whisper. There's no threshold that needs to be reached before measurement begins.

 And rainfall is measured with a "haptic" sensor. The unit effectively "listens" to the rain tapping on the top of the unit. Some involved algorithm converts that to rainfall.Other local stations - as well as commercial sources - allow for "Rain Check" which supposedly corrects for errors (the next morning).

 The package arrived mid-afternoon on 07/27/20.

 This is the entire sensor. It fits easily in one hand. Also included is a post mount (see photo), a "hub" which communicates via WiFi), a cord and power transformer. The unit is said to have a thousand foot range.

 I had installed a one inch PVC pipe last week so I could slide the sensor on the top and quickly be in business. I have it at the northeast corner of the garden where there is good air flow, particularly open to the west.

 Here's the Tempest as the storms began rolling in not an hour later. Thousands of nearby lightning strikes were detected.

 But it was the rainfall that interested me most. Would the unit be close? This morning I measured 0.42" in the 20" NWS gauge. The Tempest reported 0.40". The two are separated by a little over a hundred feet. I'd have been happy with a ballpark reading but this was really exceptionally close.

 I have the station setup as "public" so the data is available to view. Click here to take a look.

Wisteria blooms ... finally

 Nine years ago Dan Miller gave Mom and I a wisteria plant. I planted it beside a heavy metal pole that supported a basketball hoop when we first moved here. The pole has since supported a flag and various other climbing plants.

 The trouble with the wisteria is that it's never bloomed. Since 2011 there has not been a single flower. Each spring Mom and I would watch the plant with anticipation. Was this the year? She died in 2017 without ever seeing it bloom.

 Some species of wisteria, I've learned, are hard to bloom. Was that what we had? I wish I had written down from  the package what it was.

 But finally, this spring, in April, I found it covered with buds. Then several hard frosts killed every last one.

 So I was surprised to spot a bloom - just one - yesterday (07/22/20).

 Until then, we weren't even sure what color it would be. There is hope for next year. Maybe it will wait a bit longer before making buds or maybe we won't have those late cold spells. Here's how it looked earlier this year.

04/08/20 

04/08/20 

04/10/20 

04/14/20 

04/14/20

 It was showing real promise by mid-April. But the night of April 14, we dipped to 39°. Then on subsequent nights 38°and 37°. There was frost each night. The buds were burnt beyond recognition and by May, when I took one apart, it became brown powder in my fingers.

 And so we thought the plant was ruined for another year.

 But now, three months later, it's forced out one bloom. We finally know the color. But mostly we have hope for next spring. Hope does spring eternal.

Mom's Zucchini Bread

 Well, not my Mom's zucchini bread because she wasn't fond of quick breads. But I've always loved sweet breads and today I was given a reason to make one.

 I walked out to the garden this morning and saw that a particularly large zucchini had inflated overnight. I try to pick them when they're smaller. Once they get to boat anchor size they're not worth much. I brought it in and showed it to Tom and asked if he'd like me to cook it for lunch.

 We've had cooked zucchini twice this week so I got a thumb's down on that suggestion. "How about zucchini bread?" he asked. Fine by me, especially when he offered to shred whatever amount of zucchini I'd need.

I used the recipe at Allrecipes. Click here to see it.

 I mixed all of the dry ingredients first (I was waiting for Tom to shred the zucchini).

 I suppose it'd be better to mix the eggs, oil and vanilla together and then add them into the dry ingredients. But I didn't. As long as everything is mixed well, it doesn't matter. The resultant batter shouldn't have any dry flour unmixed. Just keep stirring a bit and it'll all come together.

 Leave the skin on the zucchini, by the way. The green flecks are what adds a touch of authenticity.

 We didn't squeeze the water from the shredded zucchini (the recipe doesn't call for this step). Obviously, zucchini can have various amounts of moisture and that must be accounted for in the baking time. I considered the batter "wet" and figured it'd need the full hour of baking. I assume that's why the suggested baking time stretches from 40 minutes to an hour.

 I tested at the 50 minute mark and all seemed done. But the tops still had a bit of a shine so I opted to leave them in the oven for another five minutes. I'd call 55 minutes perfect.

 This is as easy a recipe as you'll find. With the amount of cinnamon ( a full tablespoon) and another of vanilla (they call it three teaspoons; same thing), the bread is decided spicy. But that's just what you want. Cut it with a cup of black coffee and dessert is served.

Comet NEOWISE

 For the past week or so I've been watching Comet NEOWISE rise steadily in the northwestern sky each evening even as it retreats from the sun and likely grows dimmer./ Our only saving grace is that it is coming ever closer to Earth. It'll be within 64 million miles of us (admittedly two-thirds of the distance to the sun) on July 22.

 So far, it hasn't been much to see. In fact during my first viewing sessions I didn't see it at all. I merely aimed the camera at the patch of sky where I expected it and took a time exposure. Sure enough, a dim fuzzy blob  appeared on some shots.

 Each night that it's been clear, I've tried again. I have increasingly found it fairly easily to spot with binoculars. But last night (07/16) I was able to lower the binoculars and see it with my own eyes. It's best viewed off-center where the fuzzy tail seems to stretch forever.

 When I aim the camera I can no longer see the comet in the viewfinder so I'm aiming blind. Of course I know approximately where it is but it's still a game of chance. Even so, I've managed to get it in every frame in recent sessions.

 The comet is still low, maybe no higher than 10­° above the horizon. I have the advantage of a field of corn behind me (admittedly higher than soybeans would have been) and a distant line of trees, now low enough not to cause any obstructions.

 Even with short time exposures (all 15 seconds or less) the comet appears in each frame.

 I almost missed it with a blind attempt at this telephoto shot. Oh, for a decent DSLR camera! I am using a "prosumer" grade camera, hardly good enough for comet chasing: a Canon Power Shot SX-20IS (vintage 2009).

 Though the camera marginally captures the comet on the ASA (ISO) 400 setting, a decent camera would have made all the difference in the world. I could crank it up to ASA 800 but the pictures get to be too grainy.

 Even so, the bright coma and nebulous tail show fairly well.

 Above is a close-up cropped from another frame. That's about as good as I can do.

 This isn't another Hale-Bopp as I photographed in 1997 while using a film-based 35 mm camera. That was more flexible than my digital camera but I had no idea what my pictures were like until I had the film developed.

 Nevertheless, every comet is a special gift from the heavens and each lifetime is blessed with very few. They're worth every minute spent locating  them and then enjoying the fruits of the search.

-----

 Pix below taken 07-17-20 at about 10:30 PM local time ...

 And here is a Stellarium plot of that section of sky on that date and hour. The two stars above and to the left of NEOWISE are Alkaphra (left) and Talitha. Both are actually double stars.

We are all aware ... [quote]

Elephant Ears

 I've wanted to grow the giant variety (Colocasia esculenta) of Elephant Ears for some time and for a second year I bought a corm at a Cincinnati greenhouse. Last year's experiment never really began. I planted the corm and waited ... and waited ... and waited. Nothing.

 I have since discovered that I probably planted the corm upside down.

 This year Tom picked one up very early in the season, probably March, and I placed it in a pot on our  enclosed (and heated) porch. Even so, it's a cool spot and I didn't see any evidence of a sprout breaking the soil for nearly two months.

 By late May I knew it was living and prospering ...

05-27-20

 We dug a hole in a pot on my back porch, took the corm out of the pot it was in (without disturbing the soil much) and replanted it. On May 27 what was clearly a leaf began to erupt.

06-04-20

Eight days later another - much longer - leaf began to unfurl. Apparently the small leaf is something akin to the drogue on a parachute, testing the air and leading the way into the spring sunshine.

06-05-20

 The next day the long leaf opened ...

06-26-20

 Fast forward three weeks and the plant has pushed new growth all around the corm. The leaves have found the sun and are all pointing towards the southwest. This location is shady in the morning but there is brief full sun in the early afternoon. Then, again, the plant is shaded by the garage late in the day.

07-04-20

 By Independence Day the plant opened many large leaves ... elephant ears, for sure. It gives the corner of the back porch a jungle-like atmosphere.

 Elephant Ears are commonly known as "taro" a starchy food indigenous to Africa and southern Asia. As Wikipedia notes, this is one of the earliest cultivated food items. It is said to be similar to our yams.

 Of course our cold climate means we'll have to dig the bulb in the fall and overwinter it in the basement.