Rain

“Dry In The South Today And All Weekend But Rain On Monday”

~ beetleypete ~ 87 Comments

Yes, that’s what the weather lady said, as she stood in front of a map of Britain with everything south of Scotland showing a cloud-free sky.

Monday is a public holiday in England, so a forecast of heavy rain all day on a holiday is no surpise to anyone English. Still, I should have known better than to stupidly accept her optimistic forecast for south-east England at 1pm today.

Ready to walk Ollie, I wore shorts, a light fleece jacket, and took my dog-walking stick in preference to an umbrella. Leaving the house in reasonably bright sunshine, I could feel the nip of the east wind on my face.

Walking quickly soon made me forget that cold wind, and I covered the area of Beetley Meadows in good time. Once Ollie had marked almost every twig and shrub, I headed across to Hoe Rough, to make a longer walk of it. At the far end of the nature reserve, well past the point of no return, that moment when it takes longer to get home than I had already travelled, there were a few raindrops dropping onto my coat.

The skies darkened, as if someone had switched out the lights, and the chilly wind doubled in intensity. Then the heavens opened, soaking me and Ollie in minutes. My coat collar was damp and uncomfortable on my neck, and my unsuitable casual shoes were soon allowing my bare feet inside to get wet. What sparse hair I have left was slicked down onto my head, and the rain was running down into my eyes.

I headed for home, cursing the smug weather lady who must not have a single clue how to do her job.

Walking back in the continuing rain, I thought -not for the first time- what life would be like if everyone was as bad at their jobs as weather forecasters. Imagine a teacher who couldn’t read, or a policeman too scared to arrest a criminal. A chef with no sense of taste, or a fireman who is afraid of flames.

I could go on with a very long list, including things like a tone-deaf orchestra conductor. But you get the idea.

Weather forcasters are fakes. The snake-oil salesmen of the television age. High time they were all sacked.

It’s Official! I’m A Jinx!

~ beetleypete ~ 70 Comments

Hands up, I write a lot about the weather. I’s probably the most regularly covered topic on this blog. One reason is that before I moved here, Norfolk had the proud boast of being ‘The Driest County in England’. In fact, that was the title of one of the earliest posts on my blog, reflecting the irony that it seemed to rain every day here.

I also wrote a post about the fact that it always rained at 2 pm, my usual dog-walking time.

Over the years, my obsession with weather has led some people to conclude that I am exaggerating. Others might think it shows signs of serious depression, or some other mental abberation. Moving to a place supposed to officially be the driest spot in the British Isles only to discover it is probably one of the wettest, is a cruel twist of fate indeed.

Then yesterday morning, I had an interesting conversation with a fellow dog-walker, as we both stood looking at the severe flooding that has affected Beetley Meadows. The man was younger than me, but had lived his whole life in this area. And he was a gardener by profession, so spends his life outside, every working day. Gazing at the rushing flood-waters, he told me this.

“This used to be the driest place, you know. Some summers, we had no rain for four or five months, and it never rained during the school holidays when I was young. We had hosepipe bans that started in April, and water was treated like something rare, because of the lack of rain. They even used to close the drive-through car washes because they used too much water. But I started to notice that changing a while back. As I am outside all day working, I get a feel for those things, you know? We began to get heavy rain in early October, and then almost no snow at all during winter, but many consecutive days of heavy rain instead. Washed out summers, ruined barbecues, and only a few reasonably hot days each year.

I remember going home and telling my wife that something bad was happening with the weather here. Even the direction of the arriving bad weather was changing. It was always from the west before, but then it started to come down from the north, and across from the east. Weather patterns and gulf stream directions were all different. I looked it up. Then there was a really big change. I remember it as if it was yesterday. It started with weeks of rain, then a crappy summer, followed by a late winter that left us with snow almost into April”.

I nodded in agreement, then asked. “What year was that then?” He turned to face me, his answer immediate and full of conviction.

“2012. It started at the end of March that year, and it has been getting worse every year since”.

I moved to Beetley on the 23rd of March, 2012. It’s all my fault.

A Foggy Day In Beetley Village

~ beetleypete ~ 38 Comments

I woke up early this morning because rain was lashing against the windows in the bedroom. Not wanting to get out of bed just after six, I turned over and lay there listening to it until it stopped.

When I emerged, I was startled to see the garden shrouded in thick fog. It was like one of those ‘Victorian fogs’ popular with writers of mystery novels.

Ollie had to go out of course, but he didn’t like the look of the fog that made it hard to see the end of the garden. He slunk out reluctantly, creeping into the mist and disappearing behind the leylandii hedges, as is his habit.

By now, I can make out the house opposite, through the window of the office room. But I still can’t see much beyond that.

I have to say it all looks very ‘murky and lurky’, and I have little inclination to venture out.

The Shortest Day

~ beetleypete ~ 61 Comments

December the 21st is the shortest day in Britain.

It will be dark by 3:30 in the afternoon, after it never really got that bright to start with. I have had the lights on in the house since I got up at 8 am, and the SAD lamp is cranked up to full power.

The Beetley weather is marking the occasion with torrential rain that started during the night, and is set to last all day.

Oh joy!

My Kind Of Weather

~ beetleypete ~ 35 Comments

In the UK, the BBC brings us regional news. Following the main news broadcast, there is a regional news programme for each area of Britain. In Norfolk, we have ‘Look East’. The weather report on that mentioned colder weather over the next few days, and that frost and ice was unlikely, with temperatures staying well above freezing.

Then she said, “We have had no significant rainfall in this region for well over a week now”.

That’s my kind of weather report! 🙂

Sleeping With Owls

~ beetleypete ~ 76 Comments

I went to bed just before midnight last night. It was quiet in Beetley of course, it almost always is. Rare to hear a car pass by after ten, and save the occasional dog bark, you can usually be assured of a noise-free night.

But last night, there was something different, and it took me some time to realise what that was.

It wasn’t raining. There was no sound of relentless rain smacking against the windows like bow waves over a small ship at sea. No endless pattering of falling rain on the flat roof of the extension or the garden furniture, sounding as if five hundred typists were hammering at their machines right outside the bedroom window. After weeks of constant rain disturbing my sleep, the prospect of a rain-free night had me lying in bed smiling.

As I settled down in the dark, two owls began to call to each other. One was close, probably in the oak tree at the front. The second much more distant, perhaps over on Beetley Meadows. It was a pleasant sound, and became soothing after a while.

Given the choice, I would sleep with the owls, rather than the rain.

Day Fourteen

~ beetleypete ~ 66 Comments

Today is the fourteenth day of rain in Beetley. For two weeks, day and night, it has been raining. The forecast for today was ‘sunny periods and showers’. That translated to rain all day, sometimes torrential, even during the brief periods of sunshine.

The outbuilding (brick-built shed) has flooded, due to groundwater seeping through the concrete floor. I don’t feel well enough to tackle it, so have created a ‘dam’ using old towels and blankets, hoping to stop the water shorting out the two freezers and the tumble-drier that are kept out there.

Local roads look more like shallow lakes, and some have had to be closed due to deeper water. Listening to the rain starts to get to you, almost driving you crazy when it never stops. Everything is damp, and every outlook is dull. Any end of season clearing up in the garden had had to be abandoned, and it now looks like nobody lives in the house, it is so neglected.

This is not the climate change expected in fifty years, this is climate change happening before our eyes today. On two of those fourteen days, we had one month’s worth of rainfall in twenty-four hours. Sixty days of rain in just two days, followed by twelve more days of constant downpours. It is no longer remotely amusing, certainly not in the least bit funny, and is now something many of us are going to have to face every year, with increasing severity.

2020 has been one of the strangest years I can remember since 1976. The Coronavirus of course, but also the extreme weather. An unusually hot and dry summer until mid-September, followed by constant rain every day since.

If it doesn’t stop raining soon, I fear I might lose my mind.

Thinking Aloud On a Sunday

~ beetleypete ~ 60 Comments

Rain in Summer.

After a hotter than usual summer, it started to get colder during last week. That was unexpected for the end of August, when it is normally hot and humid.

Then almost thirty-six hours ago, it started to rain.

It went from an annoying drizzle to a full-blown downpour, and then it didn’t stop. The rest of that day, all that night, and all day yesterday it kept pouring down. The noise of the rain was increased by a strong wind lashing it against the house, and against me and Ollie when we were out on his dog-walk too.

Any idea that it was still the end of the summer was banished by the dark skies and constant hammering of the rain.

By late last night, I really had reached the end of my tether with it, and my mood was very low. Weather like that makes me feel trapped in the house, almost claustrophobic, and following the freedom of that earlier warm and dry weather, it was even more depressing.

By the time I went to bed, I lay there listening to the rain hitting the window for the second night, and even before I got off to sleep, I was dreading getting up to another day of it today.

I write a lot about rain on this blog, mainly because having to go out for a long time every day with Ollie has focused my attention on extremes of weather like never before in my life. Some people like rain. Others say things like ‘it’s good for the garden’. People who live in hot dry countries welcome rain with excitement, even festivals.

But I actually hate rain now. I never want to see it, hear it, or feel wet from it one more day in my life. If it never rained again here I wouldn’t mind. I would be very happy in fact. The past eight years of my life have been dominated by rain. Flooding in outbuildings, problems with guttering, and the constant daily soakings every time I went out with Ollie. Dealing with mud, trying to get a saturated dog dry enough to go back into the house, and stripping off clothes that got wet despite investment in expensive ‘waterproof’ outer clothing.

If you only ever experience rain by looking at it through the windows of your house and car, try to imagine being out walking around in it every day, seven days a week.

But it has finally stopped.

At least for now.

Walking Away From The Weather

~ beetleypete ~ 62 Comments

I left in bright sunshine with Ollie for our walk earlier. It had been grey and dismal when I got up this morning, so I thought to take an umbrella, just in case.

Sure enough, I hadn’t got 500 yards before the heavens opened in a torrential downpour. In the distance, I could see blue skies and no clouds at all, so I headed in search of that spot, which I guessed was around two miles south of Beetley. I had some idea I could walk away from the weather here. But like the proverbial distant mountain, it was a lot further away than it looked, and after an hour of walking, the rain had worn us down.

Even with an umbrella up, my clothes were soaked through, and the water was running off my saturated shorts down into the tops of the wellington boots I was wearing because of the mud. Ollie’s brown fur was so wet, it looked black, and he didn’t seem very excited about being out at all. I turned back in the direction of Beetley Meadows as the rain started to get even heavier, and I didn’t look over my shoulder at that blue cloudless sky that was mocking me.

By the time we got close to home, Ollie was already heading for the exit to the Meadows, head down, and not interested in walking in the rain any longer. Even using all three of his dog towels, I couldn’t get him completely dry, and my shorts are in the airing cupbard, drying slowly with the heat from the hot water tank. I came into the office to check the date on my calendar.
Yes, it is the 10th of July.

England, in the height of summer.

A Lonely Walk

~ beetleypete ~ 70 Comments

Since the lockdown began, we have been blessed with some excellent weather in Beetley. It has felt like high Summer on many days, and despite the government advice, that weather has brought out a lot of people enoying the local riverside park, and the nature reserve too. Many of those have driven here from elsewhere, evidenced by the unusual number of cars parked locally, and the fact that us regulars have never met them, or the dogs of those who brought dogs along.

I don’t blame them. Most have observed social distancing, and appeared to be family groups. It was good to see the children getting out in nature, instead of binge-watching Netflix, or playing video games in their bedrooms. I was also happy to see people allowing their dogs to run around exploring somewhere new, and Ollie was happy to encounter some new canine companions.

Today, it is a full 10 C degrees colder than yesterday. And it has been raining steadily since 9 am. I have seen worse of course, and the rain cannot be described as heavy, and certainly not torrential. But it is steady rain. Spring rain, and Spring temperatures, much as we might expect had it not been for three weeks of what felt like July.

So I had to change from shorts back into trousers, and the casual shoes were exchanged for the rubber boots once again. I grabbed my umbrella, and wore a reasonably warm coat, and off we went. I chose to depart slightly earlier than usual, hoping to avoid the heavier rain forecast for later today.

What I walked into felt like a scene from a post-apocalyptic science fiction film. Nobody to be seen at Beetley Meadows, no ‘exercising walkers’ who had driven here to enjoy their allowed freedom. No dogs enjoying that change of scene they had become used to during the last twenty-one days. Nothing.

There was just silence, broken only by the sound of the rain hitting the river water.

Twice around Beetley Meadows was followed by crossing the bridge onto Hoe Rough. The car park was empty. The parking spaces in the road opposite the gate were empty, and as far as I could see, there was nobody on the nature reserve. Ollie took off on his usual routine, checking out fresh smells, and marking what he firmly believes is his own territory. I followed his rigid pattern as he traversed the paths in the same order that he does every day. Try to break his routine, and he will stand crying until I go the way he prefers.

After almost ninety minutes of circling the familiar areas, Ollie was soaked, and I was bored to tears under my umbrella. Nobody to chat to, nor even wave to. No dogs for Ollie to investigate or possibly spar with, and no trace of any wildlife risking the absence of people to explore unfamiliar areas.

It was a very lonely walk today, two hours traipsing in the rain as if we were the last man and dog on Earth.