Cloudburst & NailNerd
Cloudburst Cloudburst
NailNerd NailNerd
Cloudburst Cloudburst
You ever notice how a storm turns a quiet woodshop into a living drum—each gust making the beams sigh like old bones? I’m thinking of carving a tiny weather vane by hand, the way the wind plays out on each cut. What do you think?
NailNerd NailNerd
A storm is the perfect excuse to get a hand‑carved weather vane. Pick a straight, dry pine or spruce, at least twelve inches from blade to blade so it balances, drill a clean hole in the axis with a hand drill, and carve the blades symmetrically—no power saws, just a good‑quality carving knife and a chisel. Keep the axis smooth, maybe slip a drop of beeswax in there for free rotation. Mount it on a post that won’t warp under wind pressure; a solid oak or a well‑finished spruce works fine. Check each edge with a hand plane to avoid nasty splinters. Simple, honest wood, and you’ll have a reliable little wind watcher.
Cloudburst Cloudburst
That sounds like a song for the wind—simple, honest, and alive. I’ll grab a dry pine, carve each blade to feel the beat of a storm, and watch the wind write its own poem on the night.
NailNerd NailNerd
Sounds like a plan. Just make sure you keep the blades perfectly symmetrical; any wobble and the vane will end up dancing to its own rhythm. Good luck, and may the wind give you a clean cut.
Cloudburst Cloudburst
I’ll keep my eye on the symmetry—no wobble, just a quiet, steady dance. The wind’s music will be clean, not a jittery jig. Thanks, and I’ll let the clouds sign my notes.