Weathergrams for a warm, muddy spring

one weathergram
Hewing more closely to the rules of weathergrams, this is black and red, with a chop, in portrait format. I did not include, however, a vermilion initial capital, as recommended.

It’s unseasonably warm for March in Bozeman. Ski season will end early, and the mud is just about everywhere. Earlier this month the trails on the 38 acres of Snowfill in the Bridger foothills mud and slush on top of slippery ice. My most exciting purchase lately has been a new spin mop 🙂 Time for some more weathergrams. You may remember this post, autumn before last, and this one a few weeks later, showing those weathergrams after they had weathered some.

These will, once again, be distributed throughout the trails in town. This one is almost out of date, but the memory of slippery mud is still fresh.

Weathergrams should be short, original insights, 8-10 words long. I did not follow that rule for these next ones, which are not my own words and are longer texts. If you wish to follow the suggested format, more guidance may found here in the form of Lloyd Reynolds’ book Weathergrams in PDF format.

three weathergrams, not following all of the rules

These don’t follow the exact rules for weathergrams, but I like the freedom of the longer line length.

Brush lettering weathergrams during a glorious autumn

Pentel Color Brushes and Artist Brush Sign Pens on Kraft paper. Stamps added before and/or after.

I am so enjoying a brush lettering class with Elizabeth McKee. She was my very first serious calligraphy teacher, way back in 1988-1989. The homework assignments have included making weathergrams, and this has been perfectly consonant with what I want to do. These past few weeks here in Montana, our dog Zeke and I have simply wallowed in the beautiful autumn. And we’ve enjoyed long walks among the brilliant trees and blessedly clean air and gorgeous sunlight.

Given all this, it’s no wonder that I can’t seem to stop making these weathergrams! I’m addicted to that slightly rough drag of the brush on Kraft paper, the daylight within the strokes as the ink feathers on the paper. And I have been hanging them around the walking trails in Bozeman. (I’m not sure whether to replace the ones that have disappeared, or find another place to put them. If people are taking them as souvenirs, that’s okay. But perhaps they’re simply taking out the trash. Or maybe the deer like them. How to tell?)

Weathergrams were developed by Lloyd J. Reynolds, a calligrapher who had a profound influence in the western US in the 70s and 80s. The form is a sort of Western melange of Japanese tanzaku, haiku, wabi sabi, and more. Weathergrams are not sold but given as gifts or hung from trees and allowed to weather. If you want to know about weathergrams, read Reynolds’ booklet on the subject. And that booklet has been digitized here by The Haiku Digital Foundation Library.

Read more about Lloyd Reynolds at the website of Reed College, where he was a professor for 40 years.