Rain is inevitable. Rain is perpetual. Rain is ingrained in the fabric of life. Britain is a series of islands that’s buffeted by the winds that sweep across the Atlantic. Not always but mostly.
We complain about it. We lament it when there’s not enough. We are shaped by it. If ever there was a better sign of what’s called “small talk” it’s to talk about the weather. Having a conversational default like this one is deeply embedded in our culture.
The line to draw is one between the “normal” amount of rain and the periods when the torrents seem almost biblical. Record breaking is a talking point. Can’t ignore it.
According to the Met Office[1], Berkshire, where I am, received 3 times its average September rainfall. Southern England had its wettest September since 1918, and its 3rd wettest on record in a series from 1836.
Natural variations are to be expected. Afterall, what would there be to talk about if the only thing to say is that the weather is the same as yesterday, or last week. That is the fate of people in some parts of the world. No such predictability for our northern hemisphere islands. Up at above 50 degrees of latitude we see a moderate variation in almost everything.
The key word there being “moderate”. Months that are as wet as this past September, do impact the regular cycles of the seasons. Generally, it’s been warm too. I can’t help thinking it’s been a good year to be a tree. Roots have had a lot to soak up whenever the need arises.
Is what’s happening an indication of climate change? I’m not going to be the one to put my hand up on that one. I suspect that a greater degree of variation in the weather is a broader factor.
For the farming calendar this year has already been a strange one. Almanacks that tell you when to reap and sow might need revisiting. Whether cows will need to develop webbed feet or horded of ducks take over, I’ll leave that to the imagination.
For me, since January, living near a river has become a source of curiosity. Luckily our house is many meters above the worst-case scenario for a sustained flood. The river runs fast. It’s a chalk stream. What’s interesting is that its level is highly dependent upon the degree of soaking that the surrounding land has received. Just now, the green fields around are like sponges that are nearing their capacity. I’m sure, that’s unusual for early Autumn.
[1] https://www.metoffice.gov.uk/about-us/news-and-media/media-centre/weather-and-climate-news/2024/record-breaking-rainfall-for-some-this-september
John Vincent 