#Tropical Storm Kirk

[ivorydragoness44]

Tropical Storm......Kirk??

Apparently he's spinning around in the Atlantic. BUT we should all be fine.

[flying-potato2]

THERES ANOTHER FUCKING HURRICANE???? ALREADY?????

[landgraabbed]

it's fucking bonkers that i grew up with vague memories of typhoons and hearing my parents talk about how grueling a super typhoon is and thinking "well. we uprooted our whole life but ig at least we're safe from them" and now it feels like every year there's some fucking typhoon hitting us here. could not be that global warming thing we keep hearing about 🙄

[wlwvampirism]

Fall sounds nice in theory, but in practice it’s just one hurricane after the other

[jinruihokankeikaku]

Tropical Storm Leslie is now officially forecast to become a major hurricane by the NHC; if this forecast were to verify, the numbers for the Atlantic hurricane season would rise to 12 storms named, 8 hurricanes, and 4 major hurricanes, above the climatological norm in all categories except number of named storms. The basin appears poised to achieve above-normal ACE by the end of the year with Kirk and Leslie's contributions alone, regardless of later October and November TC activity.

[cherrysugcr]

open starters for ladies, VERY selective with men 21+ inspo: the new tropical storm is named Kirk and naturally... Kirk loves that and is being very Kirk about it connection: romantic/sexual of some sort

"Hey uh you hear what they named that new tropical storm?" Kirk grinned as he looked up from his phone. "Named it after me. I mean not after me but kinda feels that way. Tropical Storm Kirk. You know I can rock you like a hurricane don't you sweetheart?"

[atlantichurricanes]

Atlantic Tropical Weather Outlook issued by the National Hurricane Center in Miami, FL, USA

2024-10-05, 08:00 EDT

Active Systems: The National Hurricane Center is issuing advisories on Hurricane Kirk, located over the central subtropical Atlantic Ocean, and on Hurricane Leslie, located over the eastern tropical Atlantic Ocean.

Gulf of Mexico (AL92): Showers and thunderstorms associated with a broad area of low pressure located over the southwestern Gulf of Mexico are gradually becoming better organized. Development of this system is expected, and a tropical depression or storm is likely to form later today or on Sunday while it moves slowly eastward over the southwestern Gulf of Mexico. By early next week, the system is forecast to move faster eastward or northeastward across the central and eastern Gulf of Mexico where additional strengthening is likely. Interests on the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico, the Florida Peninsula, the Florida Keys, and the northwestern Bahamas should monitor the progress of this system. Regardless of development, locally heavy rains could occur over portions of Mexico during the next day or two, and over much of Florida late this weekend through the middle of next week.

* Formation chance through 48 hours...high...70 percent.

* Formation chance through 7 days...high...90 percent.

Far Eastern Tropical Atlantic: A tropical wave is expected to move off the west coast of Africa on Monday or Tuesday. Some development of this system is possible thereafter while it moves westward or west-northwestward across the eastern tropical Atlantic. The system is expected to move near or over the Cabo Verde Islands on Wednesday and Thursday, and interests there should monitor its progress.

* Formation chance through 48 hours...low...near 0 percent.

* Formation chance through 7 days...low...30 percent.

$$ Forecaster Kelly

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Three Storms Churn in an Active Atlantic

From the stable Lagrange point 1, located one million miles above Earth, NASA’s EPIC (Earth Polychromatic Imaging Camera) imager on the DSCOVR (Deep Space Climate Observatory) satellite observed an unusually active Atlantic Basin.

In early October, three hurricanes simultaneously spun over the North Atlantic Ocean. This image shows the three storms—Milton, Kirk, and Leslie—at about 12 p.m. Central Time (17:00 Universal Time) on October 6, 2024. It was captured as Milton was developing in the southwestern Gulf of Mexico, about an hour before it became a hurricane.

According to Phil Klotzbach, a Colorado State University meteorologist, this is the first-known hurricane season to see three hurricanes simultaneously present in the basin after September. Klotzbach cites the National Hurricane Center’s (NHC) database, which dates back to 1851, but he also noted: “…there are likely underestimates and potentially missed hurricanes prior to the satellite era (1966-onwards).”

Fueled by unusually warm water in the Gulf of Mexico, Hurricane Milton “explosively” intensified from a Category 1 to Category 5 storm in less than 24 hours from October 6-7. The hurricane developed with ��light shear and very warm waters in its path,” according to the NHC. As of the afternoon on October 7, Milton had 175 mile (282 kilometer) per hour winds and was forecast by NHC to make landfall on the west coast of the Florida peninsula on the evening of October 9.

In an October 6 update of tropical Atlantic activity, University of Miami hurricane researcher Brian McNoldy noted that temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico—both at and below the surface—were record warm. “High ocean heat content provides a hurricane with a constant source of fuel and makes it much harder to upwell cooler water from below which could weaken the storm,” McNoldy wrote in the update. “This will help Milton to rapidly intensify and reach a higher peak intensity.”

To the northeast, Kirk was weakening from a Category 2 to a Category 1 hurricane around the time of this image. Kirk began developing in the eastern tropical Atlantic in late-September and reached peak intensity as a Category 4 hurricane on October 4. The major hurricane veered northeast after development and evolved into an extratropical cyclone. NHC forecasts indicate that the storm could reach the shores of western France on October 9.

Meanwhile, Leslie churned as a Category 1 storm when this image was acquired. Leslie developed several hundred miles southwest of the Cabo Verde Islands of western Africa and became a hurricane on October 4. The storm is expected to weaken to a tropical storm by October 8, with no interaction with land.

The hurricane season, which started June 1 and runs through November 30, has been unusually busy so far in 2024, according to Klotzbach. As of October 6, nine hurricanes have developed in the Atlantic compared to the 1991-2020 average of 5.5.

NASA Earth Observatory image by Michala Garrison, using data from DSCOVR EPIC. Story by Emily Cassidy.

[meandmybigmouth]

Tropical Depression Set to Become Major Hurricane Kirk (msn.com)

Tropical Depression Set to Become Major Hurricane Kirk (msn.com)

DON'T WORRY AMERICA! WHEN TRUMP WINS HE WILL REMOVE THE WEATHER SERVICE AND STORM WARNINGS WILL BE PROPAGANDA MADE TO MAKE HIM LOOK BAD!

[ivory--raven]

wait

next named storm - tropical depression 12 probably?

is going to be Kirk

[you-should-take-her-to-big-sur]

Since Taylor's releasing a variant called "The Albatross"

"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

(text of 1834)

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Argument

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

PART I

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

May'st hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,

'There was a ship,' quoth he.

'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye—

The Wedding-Guest stood still,

And listens like a three years' child:

The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

The Sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right

Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,

Till over the mast at noon—'

The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,

For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,

Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes

The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,

Yet he cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

Was tyrannous and strong:

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,

And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow

Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And forward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,

And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold:

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,

As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts

Did send a dismal sheen:

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—

The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,

Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit;

The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;

The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'

'God save thee, ancient Mariner!

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—

Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow

I shot the ALBATROSS.

PART II

The Sun now rose upon the right:

Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariner's hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe:

For all averred, I had killed the bird

That made the breeze to blow.

Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,

That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,

The glorious Sun uprist:

Then all averred, I had killed the bird

That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,

That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!

That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs

Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout

The death-fires danced at night;

The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assurèd were

Of the Spirit that plagued us so;

Nine fathom deep he had followed us

From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,

Was withered at the root;

We could not speak, no more than if

We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.

PART III

There passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye.

A weary time! a weary time!

How glazed each weary eye,

When looking westward, I beheld

A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,

And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last

A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!

And still it neared and neared:

As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!

I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in.

As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!

Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.

The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave

Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly

Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered

With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)

How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,

Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the Sun

Did peer, as through a grate?

And is that Woman all her crew?

Is that a DEATH? and are there two?

Is DEATH that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,

Her locks were yellow as gold:

Her skin was as white as leprosy,

The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,

Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,

And the twain were casting dice;

'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'

Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;

At one stride comes the dark;

With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,

Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!

Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,

The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;

From the sails the dew did drip—

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The hornèd Moon, with one bright star

Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,

Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,

And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,

(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,

They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,—

They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

PART IV

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand!

And thou art long, and lank, and brown,

As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,

And thy skinny hand, so brown.'—

Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!

This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on

My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie:

And a thousand thousand slimy things

Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,

And drew my eyes away;

I looked upon the rotting deck,

And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;

But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,

And the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky

Lay dead like a load on my weary eye,

And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they:

The look with which they looked on me

Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high;

But oh! more horrible than that

Is the curse in a dead man's eye!

Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,

And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,

And no where did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two beside—

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,

Like April hoar-frost spread;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay,

The charmèd water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,

I watched the water-snakes:

They moved in tracks of shining white,

And when they reared, the elfish light

Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire:

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,

They coiled and swam; and every track

Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue

Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware:

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

PART V

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,

Beloved from pole to pole!

To Mary Queen the praise be given!

She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,

That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,

That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew;

And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,

My garments all were dank;

Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:

I was so light—almost

I thought that I had died in sleep,

And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:

It did not come anear;

But with its sound it shook the sails,

That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!

And a hundred fire-flags sheen,

To and fro they were hurried about!

And to and fro, and in and out,

The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,

And the sails did sigh like sedge,

And the rain poured down from one black cloud;

The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still

The Moon was at its side:

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on!

Beneath the lightning and the Moon

The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;

Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,

Where they were wont to do;

They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—

We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son

Stood by me, knee to knee:

The body and I pulled at one rope,

But he said nought to me.

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!'

Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!

'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,

Which to their corses came again,

But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,

And clustered round the mast;

Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,

And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,

Then darted to the Sun;

Slowly the sounds came back again,

Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky

I heard the sky-lark sing;

Sometimes all little birds that are,

How they seemed to fill the sea and air

With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,

Now like a lonely flute;

And now it is an angel's song,

That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on

A pleasant noise till noon,

A noise like of a hidden brook

In the leafy month of June,

That to the sleeping woods all night

Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,

Yet never a breeze did breathe:

Slowly and smoothly went the ship,

Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,

From the land of mist and snow,

The spirit slid: and it was he

That made the ship to go.

The sails at noon left off their tune,

And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean:

But in a minute she 'gan stir,

With a short uneasy motion—

Backwards and forwards half her length

With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,

She made a sudden bound:

It flung the blood into my head,

And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,

I have not to declare;

But ere my living life returned,

I heard and in my soul discerned

Two voices in the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man?

By him who died on cross,

With his cruel bow he laid full low

The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself

In the land of mist and snow,

He loved the bird that loved the man

Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,

As soft as honey-dew:

Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done,

And penance more will do.'

PART VI

First Voice

'But tell me, tell me! speak again,

Thy soft response renewing—

What makes that ship drive on so fast?

What is the ocean doing?'

Second Voice

Still as a slave before his lord,

The ocean hath no blast;

His great bright eye most silently

Up to the Moon is cast—

If he may know which way to go;

For she guides him smooth or grim.

See, brother, see! how graciously

She looketh down on him.'

First Voice

'But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without wave or wind?'

Second Voice

'The air is cut away before,

And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!

Or we shall be belated:

For slow and slow that ship will go,

When the Mariner's trance is abated.'

I woke, and we were sailing on

As in a gentle weather:

'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;

The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter:

All fixed on me their stony eyes,

That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,

Had never passed away:

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,

Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more

I viewed the ocean green,

And looked far forth, yet little saw

Of what had else been seen—

Like one, that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turned round walks on,

And turns no more his head;

Because he knows, a frightful fiend

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,

Nor sound nor motion made:

Its path was not upon the sea,

In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek

Like a meadow-gale of spring—

It mingled strangely with my fears,

Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too:

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—

On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

The light-house top I see?

Is this the hill? is this the kirk?

Is this mine own countree?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,

And I with sobs did pray—

O let me be awake, my God!

Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were:

I turned my eyes upon the deck—

Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:

It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart—

No voice; but oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot's cheer;

My head was turned perforce away

And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,

I heard them coming fast:

Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy

The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third—I heard his voice:

It is the Hermit good!

He singeth loud his godly hymns

That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away

The Albatross's blood.

PART VII

This Hermit good lives in that wood

Which slopes down to the sea.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears!

He loves to talk with marineres

That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve—

He hath a cushion plump:

It is the moss that wholly hides

The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,

'Why, this is strange, I trow!

Where are those lights so many and fair,

That signal made but now?'

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said—

'And they answered not our cheer!

The planks looked warped! and see those sails,

How thin they are and sere!

I never saw aught like to them,

Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag

My forest-brook along;

When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,

That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look—

(The Pilot made reply)

I am a-feared'—'Push on, push on!'

Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,

But I nor spake nor stirred;

The boat came close beneath the ship,

And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reached the ship, it split the bay;

The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drowned

My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,

The boat spun round and round;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked

And fell down in a fit;

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,

And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long, and all the while

His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree,

I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,

And scarcely he could stand.

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'

The Hermit crossed his brow.

'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say—

What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched

With a woful agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale;

And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns:

And till my ghastly tale is told,

This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;

I have strange power of speech;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me:

To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there:

But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are:

And hark the little vesper bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea:

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemèd there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk

With a goodly company!—

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and babes, and loving friends

And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!

He prayeth well, who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,

Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest

Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,

And is of sense forlorn:

A sadder and a wiser man,

He rose the morrow morn.

[chiropterx]

OOC// What is your favourite bat species? Why?

"Now that's just not fair to ask! Don't you know there's over 1400 species to choose from?" Kirk chuckles lightly, his boyish face set in a wide grin. He's interested in the question however; most people assumed vampire bats were his favourite and in a way they were due to working with his own for several years, causing the scientist to go off on a tangent. "Let's see, I like a number of species. Pteropus vampyrus may sound like a member of the vampire bat family due to it's name but truthfully belong to Pteropodidae, and are better known as the Flying Fox! Despite their size, they're harmless fruigivores - all they're interested in are fruits, flowers and nectar, not blood from humans or any animal." He trails off before continuing. "Craseonycteris thonglongyai is another favourite of mine and one I've yet to see. It's true name is the Kitti's hog-nosed bat but most people know it as the Bumblebee bat. If you've guessed it's because of their size, you'd be right! They're the world's smallest species of bat and may just be the smallest mammal currently alive today, measuring roughly an inch high and weighing just 2 grams. Absolutely adorable." He smiles again and raises a hand, ticking off a finger. "Since you asked what my favourite species is, I'll have to tell you. It's Ectophylla alba, and if you don't know the name, don't be ashamed. They're a pretty obscure species unless you go by their common name, which is the Caribbean white tent-making bat. That pretty much tells you what it is they do, making little homes for themselves and their family! A small colony stays together, working as one to create shelter from the tropical storms of their native country. Their preferred choice of plant is the Heliconia with it's long, broad leaves that provide the perfect shelter from the rain. They're really quite industrious little creatures and are well-known for their pure white coats and yellow ears." His smile is wide, beaming and bright as his tongue continues firing off facts and information from the tip of his tongue before he remembers he's talking too much and sighs, breaking off from his speech. "But they're all fantastic creatures, really. Other than that, personally my favourite bat of all happens to be Drusilla, the oldest female vampire bat in my care. She's the one with only one functional wing but don't let that fool you, she's quite capable of getting around even though she's no longer able to fly! She's a real trooper and has no problem keeping the other troublemakers in line!"

// Chip's favourite species of bat is the pipistrelle, of which she enjoys watching in the early evenings of spring and summer keeping down the local insect population!

[accipitae]

Another tropical storm had developed in the Caribbean and could potentially follow the same path that Helene did. Two back to back storms would be catastrophic.

Ryan Hall on Youtube is a really excellent sourse for storm coverage and has been posting updates on the storm's development and where it's likely to go. He’s also fundraising aid for Appalachia right now. Last I heard, they're looking into ways to airdrop supplies into areas that have been completely cut off by flooding.

I think they’re underreporting the sheer amount of damage Helene has caused. Entire towns are gone. 50 confirmed deaths already. Down power lines everywhere. Emergency responders are swamped. Stoplights are out. There’s a down live power line at the bottom of my mom’s mountain and the sheriff is like “yeah, I know. we called the power company and they’re not going shit.”

[dertaglichedan]

Hurricane Kirk, Tropical Storm Leslie ‘Strengthening’ in the Atlantic Following Helene’s Devastation

The National Hurricane Center (NHC) is tracking two more storms that are intensifying in the Atlantic Ocean following Hurricane Helene, weather officials said.

Kirk, designated as a Category 3 hurricane, has had sustained wind speeds of up to 125 mph. It was originally forecast to make landfall in the United States, but “has since veered to the north and then the northeast, and is heading back across the Atlantic in the direction of Ireland and the U.K.,” according to Newsweek. 

While it is no longer expected to touch down in the United States, NHC officials warned that swells generated by the storm are expected to “cause life-threatening surf and rip current conditions” off the Caribbean Islands and the United States east coast. 

Leslie, a smaller storm that formed in Kirk’s wake with maximum sustained wind speeds of 45 mph, may also strengthen into a hurricane as the distance between the pair grows bigger as they move, due to a decrease in wind shear. 

NHC officials warned Thursday that Leslie has gotten “a little stronger”:

[jinruihokankeikaku]

Unofficial Tropical Cyclone intensities this year -

Beryl (peak) - 150kt / 931hPa (up from 145 / 934)

Ernesto (second peak) - 85kt / 966 hPa (up from 80 / 968)

Helene (peak/landfall) - 125kt / 934hPa (up from 120 / 934)

Kirk (peak) - 135kt / 925 hPa (up from an extraordinarily conservative 125 / 934)

Leslie (peak) - 95kt / 965 hPa (up from 90 / 972)

Milton (peak) - 155kt / 891 hPa (up from 155 / 897)

Milton (secondary peak) - 150kt / 899 hPa (up from 145 / 902)

Oscar (peak/landfall) - 100kt / 961 hPa (up from an absurd and shocking 70 / 986)

No changes needed for Alberto, Chris, Debby, Francine, Gordon, Isaac, Joyce, or Nadine, IMO. But this year has featured some egregious underestimates of intensity & this is how I'd correct them based on publically available data and discussions with various other amateurs and professionals.

The only storms that would be changing SSHWS categories here would be Oscar (C1 → C3) and Ernesto (reached C2 a second time after passing Bermuda). Kirk would also go from C4 → C5 on the pressure scale, but I don't think there's actually sufficient evidence for 140kt winds.