2008-06-12 15:27:51.000 – Stacey Kawecki, Meteorologist
The sedge is turning green, the first round of alpine garden bloom has come and gone, and only a few patches of snow remain on the eastern sides of Clay and Jefferson. Another season is here, and before we know it, it will be gone. Time flies on the summit. I’ve been here for almost a year, and it feels like I have begun just yesterday. We’ve said hello and goodbye to observers and interns and volunteers, on a semi-annual, seasonal, and weekly basis. Well, there is something constantly in the air and it is not just pollen and black flies…it is change.
The scenic vistas can change instantaneously; from the pinprick view of murky fog to an enchanting landscape opening out into the 120 mile vista. The landscape changes with seasons: from peaks coated in winter white, changing over to green for the spring and summer and fading way to brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges for fall. It is cyclic, or to use the words of long time volunteer, Ira Seskin, it is “constant change”. Not only is the landscape and weather in continuous motion, but the people who color the landscape of the Observatory are always changing. Every new season, we get fresh, new interns. Every week, new (or returning) volunteers, and every so often we have to say a heartfelt goodbye to one observer and make room for someone new: someone like me about one year ago. Ecstatic to be working in some of the most extreme weather recorded on Earth, but equally as scared.
Aquarians are supposed to thrive on change, and maybe that’s why, with each new season, I get good butterflies of anticipation dancing in my belly. One thing, however, will never change. That is the beauty and awe inspiring marvels experienced by all who visit the summit of this gorgeous mountain.
Stacey Kawecki, Meteorologist