When is a Drought Not a Drought?

That is the question that is exercising my mind at this moment: When is a drought NOT a drought? And the answer? When it's been raining nearly every day for three weeks! At least it's not what we normally understand by the term 'drought'.

Rainy drought conditions!

You see, my friends, ever since the "drought" was made official and a water hosepipe ban was put in place, as well as other restrictions on the use of water, heaven's sluice-gates have opened up and it has rained on us almost every day to some degree or other, which is just as well, really, as our gardens get watered at least during this extreme spell of dry weather!

And believe me, there's nothing worse than a wet drought! A dry drought I know how to deal with, but a wet drought... now that's a different thing altogether and the "rule-book" says nothing about that. How does one begin to tackle a wet drought? The Authorities tell you one thing and your senses witness another. Is the weather just being bloody-minded to wrong-foot meteorologists and hoodwink the rest of us or are we seeing contradiction where there is none?

As rainy conditions stop us from going into the garden to deal with the drought by chucking a few buckets of water over our more precious plants, we see all the vegetation really taking off with all this dry rain falling on us and before we know it we have a jungle to cut down!. What are we to do? Brave the rain to counter the drought or weather the drought and let the rain do its worst? Either way, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't! 

Could this be the future?

And to make matters worse, my confounded brolly gave up the ghost the other day before a sudden powerful gust when I was out and I was left helpless before a possible imminent downpour of drought-induced rain. Fortunately the drought held off till I was back home before unleashing its stores of rain. Now I'm brolly-less and can't find a shop that sells them. Cue to go online at Amazon and get one from there together with a pair of garden secateurs and perhaps a revamped mackintosh and some sort of cat repeller to stop cats pooping in my garden every day!



09.05.2012
It is three days later and the drought continues with more rain every day. Wet boggy ground and mud patches in gardens and parks are visual testimony to the cumulative effects of a watery drought. The hosepipe has become irrelevant as Nature is being kind to us and supplying in abundance what we may not obtain from the water companies. But the special drought restrictions continue and there's no sign yet of their ending. With dry weather like this, umbrella sellers will be doing a rip-roaring trade.

Should a period of real dry weather, not to say drought, come upon us one day soon, we'll need a new word to define it, given that drought now conjures up visions of constant wet and rainy weather! The only viable terms that come to mind at the moment are 'real-drought' or, 'drought-for-real' or better still 'dry-drought'. Yes, the last of these has a certain pleasant alliterative ring to it. We will have 'droughts' that are wet and then 'dry-droughts' that are true periods of dry weather. Bingo! Problem solved! And the English language is the richer for it.

I rest my case and spare the reader's patience.

When snow falls...

The snow began falling in the early afternoon. It was light and somewhat powdery at first, but as afternoon turned into evening it became heavier and heavier until in a very short space of time it had painted everything pure white. And it continued falling. Quietly, gently, silently, but persistently. The layer of white began to grow and grow and, as I stood and stared out of the window in undisguised childlike glee, it looked like a veritable Winter Wonderland to me!

In the same way I have always loved to watch it raining, and the heavier the better, I’ve loved to watch the snow come down, the thicker the better! And just as rain excites me by the noise it makes, snow enchants me by the noise it doesn’t make, by its silent presence. It gradually produces an effect that holds me in thrall: it muffles sounds, so that it produces an eerie but fascinating silence that envelops everything. The sound of rain thrills me, the silence of snow puts me in awe, and the wonder of Nature enthralls me. And that in turn awakens in me a feeling tantamount to a sort of spiritual, not to say religious, experience in its own way.

And so as it snowed on, I did what I have done many times before: I took out my camera and began taking pictures of the snow and its effects. I opened the window or the door and felt a delightful shiver run down my spine as the cold sharp air blew in and I felt a few snowflakes touch my face, borne in by the chilly breeze. Undeterred, and feeling a sense of excitement, I snapped away, and the photos in this blog are just a tiny fraction of the many pics I took on that day. I wanted a visual record of the event, as indeed I had wanted of the snow that had fallen just over a year ago.

As night fell, the snow, still strong, continued to descend and now its general effect on the landscape was altered in the bright light of the street lamps. The dim grey light of the dark overcast day was replaced by the eerie glow of artificial yellowy-white light which picked out the free-falling snowflakes and lit up the carpet of snow that lay all around. In turn the snow reflected back the light and the end-result was a magical nocturnal display in yellow and white reflections, an optical melody to delight the eye.

Am I exaggerating the beauty and effect of snow? Perhaps I am… because for me it is a very personal and even emotional experience, as I have said. I have always found the sight of falling snow and freshly-fallen snow strangely comforting, strangely soothing in its desolate beauty. Few other natural phenomena can compare in my estimation. But the hour was late, and as I finally dragged myself reluctantly to bed, laid myself down, my mind was full of the scene outside. A gentle peace came upon me and I drifted into that welcome sleep that rests and refreshes both mind, body and soul. 

The Great British Summer 2

You might think that having had a brief bash at this topic a little while back, there's not much more to say on it and that I would leave it well enough alone now. Well, you might think that and it does make sense, but I simply can’t stay off such a sexy subject. It is after all a major British preoccupation and needs to be given its due weight and consideration. One post hardly does it justice, especially as it was a rather short one and some time ago.

The thing is that although it is notionally still summer here, Summer doesn’t seem to know it and appears to be attempting an early exit stage left. It has packed its bags and is nearly out the door to judge by the mix of unseasonal weather we’ve been getting these past few days. Wind, rain, cold... cold, rain, wind.. interspersed of course with patches of bright sunny weather to give us a false sense of security. Those foolish enough to go out in thin summery clothes and without a brolly risk being chilled by a gusting wind and soaked by a sudden downpour. The sun then comes out again but the damage is done.

The other day, as I set off for my daily jog, dark clouds began to gather, shutting out the sun which had been shining up to that point, albeit rather bashfully, the wind picked up and a light rain began to fall. Determined not to be put off by this sudden turn, I carried on towards the adjacent park and, once there, I got into my stride, but it was not looking good. The wind made me feel cold, the rain, which admittedly was not much more than a drizzle, was starting to wet me, and the gloom made it feel like the end of the world!

And yet within just minutes the rain had fizzled out, the wind had slackened, the clouds had parted, and the sun was sending its golden rays down on this part of the world again. The weather had gone from a nice sunny day, to wind, rain and gloom, to a nice sunny day again in the space of under ten minutes! Or was it five? I can't be sure, as I wasn’t wearing a watch. One thing's for sure is that had I drifted off to sleep while it was still warm and sunny and woken a few minutes later, I would never have known that the weather had turned downright nasty for a few minutes!


Anyway, coming back to Summer’s short lease ("And summer's lease hath all too short a date", W. S., Sonnet 18), at least in these northern climes, we may yet get some decent warm days, perhaps an Indian summer... or two... before the warm weather goes on leave till next year. As I wrote these lines of inspired clear-sighted observation, I was sat by the window where I was intermittently blinded by bright sunlight that almost obliterated the image on my monitor or plunged into premature twilight by a gloom that made me glad I could touch-type! (I speak in the past tense because it's been a couple of days between drafting this post and publishing it.)

If you’ve stayed with me up to this point, you’re a hardy soul and to be congratulated. But I’m not done yet and you might not last till the end, so you may still fall at a hurdle before the finish! I still have to recount an escapade of mine a couple of years back when torrential rain was unleashed on us after days of hot muggy mid-summer weather. As the rain came down in bucketfuls, I decided to make the most of it and, in imitation of something I had done on a trip to Brazil, I stripped, donned a pair of swimming-trunks and rushed out into the back garden.

I then strode about the garden, rejoicing in the feel of the cool rain on my skin. It washed and refreshed me, relieving me of the hot sweatiness of the day's heat. Within a few short moments my hair was drenched and so were my swim-shorts and the rainwater was pouring down me, bathing me in its cool caress, renewing me, cleansing me. It was such a wonderful feeling and I stayed out in the rain for as long as it lasted, enjoying every minute of it. But eventually the storm began to abate, the rain slackened off, and I looked silly standing there in the garden in my swim-shorts soaked to the core, so I made a hasty retreat back indoors and straight to the bathtub! Days like that are very rare. Not so much in terms of the rain, there’s enough of that alright, but it’s usually not warm enough for one to go out in the rain in just skimpy shorts without feeling cold.

 As for the similar incident in Brazil which I mentioned above, I was at a sort of out-of-town guest-house at the time, what they call a pousada there, when the heavens opened up in a spectacular way so characteristic of a tropical thunderstorm. Like a shot I changed into my swim-trunks and made a bee-line for the swimming-pool. As I circled round in the pool the rain cascaded down furiously like an immense heaven-sent waterfall. And I for one couldn't get enough of it. The combination of the pool water below and the torrential rainwater above was one of the greatest feelings I've ever had and is up there with s.e.x. in terms of good feeling. It certainly lasted much longer! Everyone else in the hotel must have thought I was out of my tiny mind as they stared out at me from the shelter and comfort of the pousada, but I didn’t care. In fact I felt sorry for them, they didn’t know what they were missing, poor sods! I could have spent most of the day splashing about in the pool as the rain beat down on me, but it was over all too soon, though the memory has stayed with me ever since.

Well, that’s all for now, luvvies, though I know you want more. But, who knows, I might come back to this fascinating topic another time.

Love in the Rain

Well now, what lovelier scene of human affection can one imagine than this? Made all the lovelier, and more poignant, by the rain, which as we know is no respecter of human emotion. A young couple expressing their love for each other and getting soaked to the skin doing so. The rain gives added vibrancy to almost any scene or image, be it joyful, sad, funny or just plain ordinary. Imagine this same scene minus the rain. The magical effect of the rain on the car lights and their dazzling reflections in the puddles would be absent. The resolve of the lovers to express their love in the face of stormy weather adds a thrill to the whole tableau that would otherwise be missing. And their increasingly sodden clothes and hair would not sound a note of stoicism for the cause of true love were it not for the pouring rain.

You're young, in love, and in the rain... and feeling great to be alive. So let it rain, who cares? And the wetter you get the more in love you feel and the more you want to carry on hugging and kissing the object of your affection. The rain seems to conspire in your madness and pours down all the heavier in celebration of your love. And somehow, as though the rain affords you some veil of privacy from prying eyes, you forget you're in the middle of a public place with people all around able to observe your outpouring of passion and you kiss on.. and on.. and on. So kiss away, young lovers, and let the rain be your orchestra and your glorious backdrop. This may be a moment you remember for the rest of your lives.

I personally love rain. I like watching it when it's heavy, and see how it transforms everything around, and I like to be in it, whether I'm walking in the street, subject to the shelter afforded by a brolly (oh yes!), or strolling around the garden with just a pair of boxer shorts as 'protection', temperature permitting of course, and feeling the cool rain on my bare skin. Once when I was holidaying in a tropical country, as the rain started to come down, I took the opportunity to make use of the hotel's outdoor swimming-pool. As the rain intensified into a full-blown storm, so did my pleasure and delight as I swam about the pool feeling the flurry of raindrops peppering my bare skin. I flung my head back and opened my mouth, trying to gulp some of the heaven-sent water down. Eveyone else thought I was quite mad but I loved every minute of it and would do it again if I had the chance.

Island of Your Dreams

I am a fair isle of natural beauty and wondrous enchantment, a green oasis set in a vast ocean. I am clothed in a dense tropical forest which reaches down as far as the shore. There golden sandy beaches stretch for most of my length. I am bathed by warm ocean waters that glisten and sparkle in the afternoon sun. It would be fair to say that I sit in a sea of tranquillity, in an ocean of calm, in an earthly paradise that exists... somewhere out there.

The rain that falls on me is plentiful and it is usually heavy, driving in from the sea and sweeping down in sheets across my length and breadth. It may last for an hour or for a day, but when it is over I feel thoroughly cleansed and reborn. More importantly, it has made me into what I am today, a verdant jewel lush with vegetation. It has filled my forest with life of many forms and colours and of many sounds and songs.

The blue waters that bathe my shores are smooth and crystal-clear and I delight in their warm and gentle caress, in their soothing sibilant murmur. But there are times when, driven by strong offshore winds, they form tall waves that come roaring in, racing up the beach and slamming into anything in their path. And there are times when this coincides with one of the many rainstorms that lash me, and then I am buffeted by wind and drenched by rain, but I never fail to stand my ground.

Yet for all that, I am truly blessed with the best that nature can bestow... sunshine in abundance, waters that cradle me in their gentle embrace, rainfall to satisfy all my flora and fauna, beaches that form a golden girdle around me, a forest that pulses with life and is my beating heart, and... and this is vital to my well-being - a total absence of humankind! Now tell me, what more could an island like me ask for?

Britain under Water

Giant waves, driven by gale-force winds, pound Britain’s sea defences and threaten homes along the coast.

Flood waters sweep through the town centre, past closed shops. Ducks and swans however make the most of the new-found watercourse.

A car forces a path through a water-logged street which will soon become impassable as more rain falls overnight.

A police officer wades through knee-deep flood water in rescue operations throughout the stricken area. A bridge finally collapses under mounting pressure from a fast-flowing river swollen by torrential rains. A rescue team takes to a dinghy to search for survivors and others trapped in buildings by the fast rising water level. Storm or no storm, Fido must be walked and, if the worse comes to the worst, a swim in the park is no bad thing!

************************************

So is this violent weather the result of global warming or is it just the start of a bad winter? Is global warming the result of the greenhouse effect or is the earth going through one of its hot phases? Is mankind upsetting the earth's weather patterns and provoking violent climatic excesses that will eventually lead to disasters and catastrophes on a global scale? Time will tell.

. . . . .

But one thing's for sure, regardless of the effects of global warming, man has caused untold damage to the earth over the centuries and has wreaked destruction on his environment in a way that could not easily have been imagined. No other creature on God's earth has inflicted such deep scars on the face of our planet and produced such widespread pollution. What else do we need to make us act? Global warming and the disasters that come with it are the nails in our coffin lid that may seal our fate. And, i have to say, we will have deserved it!

Evening street scene

It had rained on and off for most of the day and there was a cool nip in the air. As afternoon turned into the shadows of evening, a few late stragglers from work hurriedly made their way home, leaving the wet streets for those brave and hardy enough to venture out for a night on the town.

Lights in the surrounding buildings were flicking on one by one, spilling out into the street like orange and yellow paint from an artist's dripping brush. They spoke of a cosy air of warmth inside, of people settling down for the evening after their day's labours, preparing to drift into a state of contented lethargy prior to sleep.

Night descended and the rain returned. The earlier home-bound workers were now replaced by party-goers, pub punters and the clubbing fraternity. For some the evening was just beginning, for others it was winding down. The rain grew stronger and a fresh wind began to blow through the darkened streets.

The Great British Summer

WELL, folks, here we are again, it's the height of summer and, surprise surprise, the weather here in Britain is SHIT... yet again. Overcast skies, rain, wind, even cold at times. Now and again the sun timidly manages to peek through a break in the cloud cover and send its heart-warming rays and heat down to us just to remind us that, yes, it is actually summer even though it's more like winter! But it's not long before the clouds gang up on it again and literally close ranks against it, forcing it to retreat.

BUT that's British summers for you. It ever was so and i suppose it ever will be. However, we now have a new factor to contend with. Global warming! And it seems that the more global warming we have, the colder it gets here in Blighty. God help us if global warming continues unchecked, because it seems we're set to cool down and eventually freeze up the hotter the world gets! Makes a lot of sense that, doesn't it?

NOW imagine if instead of global warming we had global cooling. On the analogy of global warming causing a countrywide cooling here, the corollary would be that global cooling would trigger a heatwave! Far-fetched? Well, maybe, and maybe not. But one thing's for sure... the worse that global warming gets, the worse our weather gets and specifically the cooler it gets, thus producing, as i have already said, SHIT summers.

THE bottom line is that the british weather never has made any sense and now it is making even less sense than it's made in the last few million years. For those who yearn for the sun, they must do as many thousands of other Brits have done before them... high-tail it to Southern Europe and join all the other ex-pats who already live there and are enjoying life in the sun. Cos, global warming or not, the weather isn't going to get any better here and, by the looks of it, is set to get a lot worse... ohhhh, Perfidious Albion!