Weather or not to care

"Storm Front" Nebraska by Mongo, Wikimedia Commons (Public Domain)

Socially most of us know, and some obey the unwritten rules of idle conversation or chit-chat.  In conversations with casual friends and acquaintances the topics of religion and politics are considered inappropriate or elicit the response, “Dems fightin’ words”. Ok, nobody I know talks like that, but almost everybody I know talks incessantly about the weather, whether or not we care or are interested.

Interpreting or lamenting about the weather has the same effect often as one who enjoys listing, describing, and generally complaining about their medical issues and ailments.  Hypochondriacs and meteorologists unite! You're both casual observers of a process beyond your comprehension. 

Safe topics of discussion are life savers in uncomfortable social situations; they break the solid ice block of unstable stranger ground and build a (light-footed) communication bridge.   Observing and attempting to understand, predict and put some sensible order into Mother Nature’s plan has been a frontier mankind has tried to conquer since first noticing a relationship between the sky and food, or crops.  This would have been a survival skill and the last era of honest (and valuable) conversations about the weather were taking place at that time.  Even the “avenue” (ditches) or ancient pathway leading to Stonehenge was just understood (2013) by modern day scientists as a sundial for predicting weather of a sort. The fact that we just figured this out (maybe) confirms that archaeology is painstakingly slow and perhaps even scientific evolution lags behind that.  

Not to count our chickens before the eggs have hatched, I have strayed off the ancient path.  We’re talking about weather talk.  As the month of March begins with a storm predicted the old idiom “March comes in like a lion, out like a lamb,” came to mind. After doing some research I discovered some similar sage sentiments, that may or may not be accurate, but all claim to be prophetic. Perhaps that’s why we are obsessed with such mundane incontrollable topics such as weather and health, we’re in it for the prophesy. Hence the obsession by muses throughout time. A "prophesy" can be defined as receiving “a divine message, inspiration or revelation”, which is why there are so many rhymes and poetic lines dedicated to these “musings” by writers and poets.  

Let’s look at a few rhymes of reason for predicting the seasons:

When halo rings the moon or sun,

Rain’s approaching on the run.

*It is safe to look directly at this picture*

A solar halo on Airforce Base via Wikimedia Commons

There is of course a scientific explanation for this. A “solar halo” is created and visible when there are high cirrus clouds (20,000 feet) that contain a ton of tiny ice crystals which refract, splitting the light. There are some illuminating photos of both solar and lunar halos on EarthSky.org.

No weather is ill, if the wind be still.

And

Seagull, seagull sit on the sand

It’s never good when you’re on land.

Ok, both of these are just common sense for the most part and not very clever rhymes, which is why we’ve never heard these before. The first means if its calm, without wind, it’s nice. Duh. The seagull is just a poor rhyme, but means if the seagull is not flying its too windy or blustery for him and abstaining from flying, which means you too should probably notice the gale force winds.

Rain before seven, clear by eleven.

For the most part this is true in my experience, but I also live by the coast. There is no doubt geography (and topography) play an important part in predicting weather. Some places are lucky enough to get rain at a certain time every day (for a season) and are even able to set their handy watch by it. I’ve personally heard of this occurring in Colorado, Hawaii, and even in Costa Rica. Likely these old rhyme writers simply did not think of, care or know what weather conditions were like anywhere other than their own locale. Why should they care unless traveling.  Since I am really only familiar with West coastal living, I know about humidity, which is normally “above normal”, making the following selection false (sometimes).

A summer fog for fair,

A winter fog for rain

A fact most everywhere,

In valley or on plain.

Admittedly it does say it takes no account for coastal weather patterns or a marine layer.

When windows won’t open, and the salt clog the shaker,

The weather will favor the umbrella maker!

All I can say to that is we don’t use a salt shaker.

"The North Sea in a Storm" by Laurits Tuxon, 1909 via Wikiemedia Commons (Public Domain).

The most practical (and accurate) weather chatter was mapped out by seamen and sailors, as well as attentive and seaworthy passengers. The following is one of my favorites and is popular all over the globe.

Red sky at night, sailors delight,

Red sky in the morning, sailors warning.

I wish everything was that easy to figure out, but what would we have to talk about? Anyway, this one is ominously and categorically always true because of the way our weather moves across the globe, crosses the Belt of Venus, and involves the scattering of the shortest wavelengths in our defined color spectrum.  Handy and life-saving advice, like teaching a man to fish.

Image of Painting by Pierre Auguste Cot, 1880 via Wikimedia Commons (Public Domain)

When the wind is blowing in the North

No fisherman should set forth,

When the wind is blowing in the East

‘Tis not fit for man nor beast,

When the wind is blowing South

It brings to food over the fish’s mouth,

When the wind is blowing in the West,

That is when the fishing’s the best!

Speaking of Venus and fish, Shakespeare cared two pence about weather predictions and said the following in “Venus and Adonis”:

Like a red morn that ever betokened,

Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,

Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds,

Guts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.

I generally do not enjoy following the herd, or enjoy participating in "small talk", I prefer gargantuan conversation (most of the time). Perhaps this stems back to childhood, as most people blame the past anyway it's as good of an excuse as any to put my face into the wind and say I just don't care for radar and other predictive measures. My father had a job that required no rain in order to work, he (not so) secretly loved the rainy season. Many people that I know watch the "doppler" like Zeus, as though he were sending them his gameplan through blobs of colors on a map only they can read. Don't even get me started on the accuracy of the doppler "future cast", perhaps this will become accurate when we figure out how to get Hover Boards to actually work. It's just gravity, what's the pressure?

Belt of Venus 2006 by Christine Churchill via Wikimedia Commons (Public Domain)

As the rain gently begins to fall here, and I flip the knob on my electric fireplace (with real looking flames) complete with built-in heater, turning up my customized Spotify station, congratulate myself for finishing this today, I shall still ponder the weather myself, likely evermore. Man versus nature is always a winning theme, if man wins that is. I think of how detached we are from it all, but ultimately tied to its whims of a wind. It still rains on parades, and there are still freezes and droughts that affect the produce department at the grocery store. While some of us run from the rain, some build snowmen and dig tunnels, and some people sit in their comfortable cottages with their computers talking about the weather when they could be outside in it, or at least looking at the sky, don't ask me why? I will  predict however, that I won’t be searching anymore for more archaic rhymes for the oncoming season (I safely predict is approaching-dare I say like a little lamb) and that really contain no rhyme or reason anyway. I think I will talk a walk in the rain (without an umbrella) down to the farmers market.