In Watching the English, a fascinating book I recommend to students on our London semester and anyone trying to make sense of navigating England, Kate Fox lays out the “rules of weather-speak” with painful accuracy — she has a whole chapter on it. The rules she describes do not apply in the US or France, although I have yet to decide how differently the codes are in my two adopted homes. She notes that “conversations about the weather are not really about the weather at all” (36), rather they are a safe way for us to engage, an “exchange of greetings” revealing willingness to talk. Her research also suggests that we can gauge other people’s mood through weather-talk (37) . After four decades in the States I still do it, and I am always surprised (but no longer offended) when people argue with “isn’t it a lovely day?” or “a bit chilly isn’t it?” I’m not sure whether what Fox calls “the agreement rule” (39) really works in France, or whether people know I lack the skills to carry on an actual conversation about relative temperatures and so just agree. I was entertained in the last canicule (August heat wave) when everyone in the village greeted everyone else simply by reporting the temperature. No need to say “bloody hot isn’t it?” when you can just roll your eyes and say “quarante-deux!”
But what about after thirty two days of rain with only three (not consecutive) days when it was damp but not actually raining? And another 7 days of rain promised? Yes, Storm Nils passed through in the middle and bought the serious flooding, but still. The friend of Marie’s who promised to bring his truffle dog told us in mid-January that he needed it to be dry with some sunshine for the sake of the dog (and the person digging in the mud I imagine). We have had two “not raining” days since then, but only one of them was what one could call sunny even though the warmer air and drizzle made some of them feel like spring. It rained all over Europe. As I was posting pictures of floods here my siblings were matching them with description of Ireland and southern England. My amazing brother, sister-in-law, and niece just finished the 10K “London Winter Run” for cancer in cold and nasty rain. Those who ran through the puddles instead of around them made better time I’m told. So I’m not complaining. Just noting for the record. And the images of flooding around here are pretty amazing, so they are here for the record as well.
In summer we want the rain. The field turns to hay and everything is covered with dust. The well runs low if I try to water the garden for more than half an hour. But in general, heavy rain does more harm later in the year, although last year at this time I heard that heavy rain in February delayed planting, so I guess you can have too much of a good thing. I imagine the same will happen this year, although as most days include a few hours of no rain perhaps we are ok. The internet is so far silent on the matter. All I can say is that it has stopped me from planting. I am excited to add yellow and red raspberries and red and yellow currents (Cassissier and groseiller) to the garden plot at the side of the orchard along with two hazelnut trees going in next to the scrawny red osier dogwoods. I bought the currents at the market last week from the guy who doesn’t use machines (or chemicals) on his farm and I hate leaving them sitting in their pots waiting. I also have some replacement lavender plants, although I know they will happily sit in their pots for a bit.
So that’s it. I would say this is a post about nothing much, but two people needed to be rescued from the top of their floating car in Les Cabannes and at least two people died as Nils went through. Weather is never nothing. That’s why we need regular weather and shipping forecasts!
The title of this post is for anyone reading this who grew up, like me, listening to the BBC “Shipping Forecast,” bemused about where all those places were, but entranced by the rhythm and cadence of the listing, and the certainty that someone knew what the weather would be all around our island. People speak of the shipping forecast as an obsession*; it is a wonderful way to fall asleep and I think it reveals as much about our island nation as “weather speak” in general. The shipping forecast used to be broadcast 4 times a day on Long Wave BBC Radio 4, now it is only twice but it still preempts whatever is on, including cricket! (The 2011 Ashes for one example.)
Today, in Mouzieys-Panens, in addition to constant rain and showers, the wind gusts are up to 25 mph/39 km and rising and the plateau feels a bit like an island. If we were on the shipping forecast, that would be a wind speed of 22 knots or a 6 on the Beaufort Scale, which is described as a “strong breeze.” [Here’s a handy calculator for the curious.] That seems a bit innocuous, but a 6 carries a small craft advisory and a 7 is “near gale,” so maybe “breeze” is an example of the ubiquitous English understatement. Either way, the wind is strong enough to blow rain under the arch and soak the top three layers of firewood. It is also cold. That damp cold blown into your bones by the wind. On the other hand, the water-level is down and as of this morning the roads are open and maybe the “breeze” will help to dry things out. Les Cabannes is no longer under water, although the insides of houses and barns in the flood zone are a mess. So there’s the basis for today’s weather talk.
Finally, the “good” in the forecast refers to visibility (“good” means up to 5 miles); no fog today and Cordes-sur-ciel will not be in the sky as well as the new “lake.”
I like ending with “good,” even though we are still under a flood warning. That’s probably English, too…
Images of Les Cabannes courtessy of @lescabannesdays Instragram
Other images from around the area
* NOTE: I did consider writing the Farmer’s Almanac part of this blog like the shipping forecast, but it is an acquired taste (and I would have had to look up the translations every day), so I opted for temperature, general weather, and any details of interest. BTW: if anyone knows of an app that will help me set up the Almanac please share details!
AND, if you want to really go down a rabbit hole, here’s the 100 year birthday celebration of the Shipping Forecast from the Cutty Sark, and you can log in to the BBC website to hear it for yourself.
REFERENCE
Fox, Kate. Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English Behaviour. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2005
