Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-01-28
WEATHER SIGNS.
Natures Means of Indicating the Coming
of a Storm.

The wind rises, foretelling storm.
1t cries and means at the window as if
it lamented the evil it was powerless to
prevent. 1t is sound which tries the
nerves already sinking as the electric
stimulus is withdrawn from the air. The
low spirits we are unable to account for
are often caused by the suspension ofthe
bracing, positive electric current during
a change of weather, too slight per-
haps, for us to notice. This sinking of
spirits unconsciously leads sensitive peo-
| pie to regard the cry of the wind as a
sort of banshee warning of disaster and
wreck. This is one of the oldest super
stitions in the world, for before the time
of Virgil and Theocritus, when to Greek
and Etrurian an eclipse was the frown
| of an offended deity and a comet was a
fiery messenger of wrath, the sigh of the
wind was full of mutterable portents.
In olden days, when window frames
were not as close as ours and chimney
crannies offered pipe for any tune the
wind chose to play upon it, imaginative
cotters wove many a legend of demons
of the air and witches shrieking discord
and horror, as if
| The cloudy air was filled round about
With bowling cries and woful, wailing plants.
Old-country tradition is full of such
tales, and we are all primitive enough
| to feel touch of creeping dread at the
eldrich voices of the wind, forgetful that
the clamor and wailing is only the wind
forcing itself through crevice too small
| for it.
| The world is full of superstitions which
have arisen as naturally as the childish
| dread of the wailing of the wind But
| you must be sure that these well-worn
| ideas have neither meaning nor worth
before you throw them away. A super
stition is not always thing to be
| laughed at, truth which the latest re-
search of science strikingly illustrates.
In places on the west coast of Eng
land, on the calmest, quietest of days,
| strange, hollow moan is heard from
| distance at sea, although the waves lie
sleeping at ones feet Fifty years ago
| the coast folk believed it the voice of
| spirit, by the old heather Saxon name
of Bucca, which foretold tempest and
woe. You hear the voice now, ominous
as of yore, but you know that it is the
| noise of a storm so far off on the Atlantic
| that its swell has not even reached
| shore. Sound travels so much faster
| than currents of air that the tempest
reaches the ear long before the first
| ripple of wind touches the check Sound
| in air travels about thirteen miles a
| minute; in water four times as fast out
| stripping the speed of any tornado
| known. The shore at these places
| gathers the sound as in the drum of the
| ear, and currents striking eastward
| carry the roar of storms which are
| sweeping midocean hundreds of leagues
| away, not blast of which may ever
| vex the shore. 1t is wonderful what
| carriers of sound and motion the great
| empty spaces of the ocean are. Before
| gale is felt in the British isles heavy
| swell sets the lightship swinging at the
| station of the Kish and Cookie Cat,
while at Valentia the surf rises twenty
| four hours before the storm reaches that
| projecting point. In the bay of Mon
| terey, California, the pillows come tear
ing in from the Pacific while the day is
perfectly calm. A cyclone off DAYS at
sea has sent these surges to tell the
shore of its work.
When distant hills look clear, sailors
forbode storm. When instead of its
usual haze, Blue hill, as seen from Ded-
ham, invites the eye to pierce its dells
and woody paths in singular clearness,
we know it is the last of our good
weather for awhile. How is thisp A
great German observer says the moisture
in the air washes its dust and impurities
away, leaving this beautiful clearness.
But this reason fails to be satisfactory
Why isn't it as clear after rain rs well
as before it, when we know the woods
fold their bluest mist about them, rs if
to keep their recesses fresh? prefer
the theory that the air before storm
has q refracting quality which brings
distances near, like the glasses of a tele-
scope How does it gain this quality at
one time and not at another? Perhaps
by the different arrangement of its mole
cules by the alteration of the electric
current so that various layers of the air
| act like lenses in degree. One finds
the same lense-lke quality in the air of
Arizona plains when mirage is visible,
and on the northwest prairies, when ut
| times it is like looking through great
prism, and the slopes are outlined with
purple and laid with roseate tinges of
enchanting harmony.
You have heard of the old signs and
sayings about the right time of the moon
for sowing seeds and expecting rain at
such a quarter, and you have laughed
at the idea that the moon had anything
to do with the affairs of the earth beyond
giving light like big lantern. I'm
fact, writes one English scientist, 1.-THE
influence of the moon on the weather is
as mythical as its influence over human
| life" Presently the same writer speaks
of ''the powerful agency of the moon in
| causing tides of ocean and of air, sub
| ject to the same tidal influences"
| Farther he declares that changes of
| the weather are associated with various
aspects of the moon" Mr.. Park Harri-
son, one of the closest observers of
modern times, after studying mass of
| observations, concludes that there Is a
tendency in the moon to warm the
| earth at her first quarter and cool it at
the third, slightly but pereeptibly. Mr..
| Glaisher, the celebrated meteorological,
| finds that there are more north winds
| in one-half of the moons period and
more south winds in the other-causes
| quite sufficient to affect such susceptible
things as the germs of seed.
But leaving the slight additional heat
| given by the moon out of the question,
research brings new and serious phase
| of the moons influence before us. The
moon is radiator and reflector of the
suns heat, which pours upon her for
period fourteen times the length of our
| day, part of which flows into space and
part comes to earth. In this period of
isolation the moon receives not only
heat, but a portion of that intense vital
and electric force of which the sun is
the center and source. At her third
quarter the moon has been exposed to
the uninterrupted heat of the sun for 265
hours, absorbing quantities of vital heat
and electricity as well. Why may not
it be also reflector and radiator of this
electric energy, which we find diffiised
throughout nature, quickening the seed
in the ground, the leaf in its sheaf, the
blood within our veins. the tissues which
overlap our frame. Science detects a
tide of nervous electric force at its fullest
about 10 o'clock in the forenoon, and
from to in the afternoon, when
human strength and life are at their
best, in the hours opposite which they
are at their lowest, when the sick feel
feeblest, and when the dying find re-
lease The hours of its ebb and flow
are as well known as the tide of ocean.
and beyond a doubt such a current
exists in lower forms of organic life.
A Al