Head in the Clouds

by Bob Morris, Handsome and Dashing Friend of the Tarts.

I have a new hero in life. His name is Cloudman. Actually, his name is John Day and he is 94 years old, but everyone calls him Cloudman. He has a web site and he probably knows more about those big puffy things that float around in the sky and make dreamers out of all of us than anyone on the planet.

This is of particular interest to those of us who live in Florida since cloud-watching ought to be one of our prime spectator sports. We've got great clouds here. Just ask Cloudman.

"You've got air loaded with water vapor," he says. "And lots of convective activity."

I'm not quite sure what convective activity is, but if Cloudman says it's a good thing then that's all I need to know.

"Everyone where you live ought to be out watching clouds," he said.  "Indeed, everyone everywhere should be out watching clouds."

Which is exactly what I was doing the other day at the beach. It was early afteroon and the sky was loaded with clouds. Some of them looking like pirate ships, some like bowls of buttered popcorn, and one of them in particular looked just like Ludwig Von Beethoven. Or maybe it was Thomas Jefferson on a bad day, hard to tell. And it was morphing into Queen Latifah.

"What are you doing?" said the woman who calls herself my wife. She had just returned from a five-mile walk, and she is not much one for sedentary moments.

"I'm sitting here, watching the clouds." I said.

"Figures," she said.

And then off she went, probably to walk another five miles, probably not even once paying attention to the sky. Poor thing.

Me, I went off to call the Cloudman. He lives in Oregon, a town called McMinnvile. And he offered solace.

"People who spend a lot of time watching clouds are often ridiculed," he said. "But it is the greatest free show on earth and there is no better way to immediately connect with the world around you than by going out and watching clouds."

Trained in physics, Day got started watching clouds back in the 1930s when he was a meteorologist for Pan American World Airways and his job was to determine which routes planes should take to avoid storms and bumpy flights. He went on the teach meteorology and physics, first at Oregon State University and then at Linfield Colllege, where he was on the faculty until his retirement just last year.

Somewhere along the way, Day's scientific mind made room for an aesthetic appreciation of the wondrous formations he was seeing in the sky. Not only did Day become the world's leading proponent of cloud-watching, he became one of the most acclaimed cloud photographers, a rarified specialty indeed. He has co-authored two highly praised Peterson guides ("A Field Guide to the Atmosphere" and "A Field Guide to Clouds and Weather") and his 2002 offering, "The Book of Clouds" is a dazzling compilation of his photographs and an instruction manual for would-be cloud-watchers.

But it is Day's latest venture that piques my interest. As he closes in on his 95th year, Day is getting ready to launch an online "Cloud School." It will be a nine-part series of lectures and guides aimed at teaching people how to more effectively study the wonders of the sky. It's free. And at the end of the course, graduates get a certification signed by Cloudman himself.

"So, if my wife ridicules me for sitting on the beach watching clouds, I can whip out my certificate and show her I am a certified professional cloud-watcher," I asked him.

"Why yes, I suppose you could do that," said Cloudman, "But then you should ask her sweetly to sit down and watch them with you."

Bob Morris is the creator of Zack Chasteen, the wily hero of such books as Bahamarama, Jamaica Me Dead and the newly released Bermuda Schwartz. In addition to his novels, Bob is also a freelance journalist who takes enviable assignments with such magazines as Bon Appetit, and National Geographic Traveler.  Plus, he's cute in shorts.

Comments

[Michael]

Bob,

Cloudman sounds like my kind of guy.

I minored in Meteorology in college, and in my business, we pay a great deal of attention to the clouds.

I can tell you all about the Lifting Condensation Level and why the Showalter Stability Index is superior to the Lifted Index, but I’d much rather look at the Winnie the Pooh cloud with my 5 year old.

I take a lot of pictures of clouds when I’m flying. “Up close and personal” kind of shots of them that offer a very different perspective than one gets from the ground.

I wish there were a way to attach some pictures to a blog comment, I’d love to share some of them.

Maybe I’ll email a few to Cloudman.

[William Simon]

Wow. Thanks, Bob. I guess like most, I never looked at it that way. After reading your blog, I cannot wait for the sun to come up this morning!

[Rita]

Thanks! Dr. Day is a perfect example of using your mind to stay young. Can't wait to become a certified cloudwatcher.

[Nancy Martin]

Cloudman sounds like my kinda guy--ask me sweetly and I'll do just about anything.

Michael, shound I be nervous that you have time to take photos when you're up there flying passengers around? And my real question---did your minor in meterology encourage your flying career, or was it the other way around?

[Bob Morris]

OK, so I thought it only fitting that I get up this morning, go outside, look at the clouds and give an inspiring report:

A bunch o' flying saucer clouds to the east, some mushrooms to the north and The Hand of Death in the West. Looks like a big-ass thunderstorm...

[Laura (in PA)]

Wow, the pictures on Cloudman's website are amazing.

I often admire cloud formations, although I have no idea what kind they are or what they mean as far as weather. I just think they're pretty.

Except, growing up in Central NY (Lake-Effect Snow Country), I can tell a snow cloud even with my eyes closed ("It smells like snow").

I'll definitely look into the online course.

[Harley Jane Kozak]

Now you've got me wondering, should I go to cloud school or clown school? There are the tough choices in life.

[Maryann]

I guess I "really don't know clouds at all"...sorry, but I'm at work this morning (yes, I know it's Saturday but merger looms), and I'm in the lower level of the building. I DO watch clouds though...we get some good ones out here on the prairie. I watch(the heavenly) stars too, even though I don't know them either :o)
I'll take the course. It will be nice to be certified in something :o)
Thanks for the heads up, Bob :o)

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Thanks for blogging for TLC, Bob! Love your books.

I used to love cloud-watching, and now I can't remember the last time I did it.

Thank you for the reminder. Fall is good cloud-watching time because, except for twice a day when the sun cuts low, there is much less glare.

[Mary]

Wonderful Saturday subject. I love looking for shapes in the clouds, and when flying, I love to think about what fun it would be to play in those puffy clouds (yes I know one couldn't, but it's fun to think about). I even once named a white hamster Cirrus. Garrison Keillor says clouds are the mountains of the midwest.
I'm signing up to be certified, too. (My students used to say I was certifiable . . .)
I've ordered _Jamaica Me Dead_, too. The four months I spent teaching study skills in Jamaica were memorably fun, so I like to revisit. (I met Ziggy Marley at Sun Splash -- it was 1983, so he was only ten or so, but still . . .)

[Tom]

Nancy, have no fear. The heavy aluminum that Michael commands flies most of its trip under the control of a very sophisticated autopilot. It takes the muscle strain of hand-flying off the front-office crew. Michael has time to take a few pix while he keeps an ear on communications and a close watch on the instruments.

It's the beginning and ending of a flight that need hand-flying by humans - well, okay, and maybe the middle if something odd happens (like running out of film and needing to stop by Walgreens).

[Kiaduran]

A perfect way to start my Saturday. Feeling all happy inside now. Thanks!

[michele martinez]

Thank you for this beautiful and relaxing blog, Bob. I bookmarked the website. It's a place to come to amidts the noise.

[Michael]

Nancy,

No, nothing to worry about, I only take pictures during cruise flight, when nothing much is going on, especially on long legs. And Tom is right; “Elvis” is driving at that stage.

Below 10,000 feet is what we refer to as ‘sterile cockpit’ meaning nothing which is not directly related to the conduct of the flight is allowed, even extraneous conversation. (No “How ‘bout them Redsox?”) Definitely no cameras at that stage.

I had already decided on a flying career when I chose my minors, including Meteorology. My Bachelor’s is in Aeronautical Science, which is a pretty specialized degree program. I think most of the students in a major like that know exactly where they want to wind up before they enroll.

I’m really lucky, I can’t think of a better job for cloud watching.

[Tom]

Michael, were you at Emory or Parks or . . . ?

[Michael]

Tom,

ERAU, DAB Campus.