
“Put the iPhone down, darling!,” I plead on our morning walk, as DBH checks the weather for the day on various apps, which almost invariably prove not only to be inaccurate, but it would seem change on a five-minute rolling basis.
This is the profound weather announcement for the first two weeks of July this year from the Met Office:
July 2 – 16
Confidence is low through this period due to mixed and weak signals, but models suggest that usual summertime conditions are most probable. We are likely to see periods of dry, settled and warm weather interspersed with occasional days of thicker cloud, rain and stronger winds. Temperatures are likely to be close to average nationally.
This sounds less like a forecast and more a generic description of the British Summer! Or even worse, the weather hacks have caught the modelling lassitude of Professors Doom and Gloom! I harbour an ongoing gripe with the Met Office because with all those so-called Weather Satellites in the sky you would think they could get it right more often, surely!
Here, as at my childhood home, we seem to live in some sort of micro-climate as it can be raining just over the border in Wiltshire which is 600 yards away and not receive a drop here!
“Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,
Red sky at dawn, shepherd’s warning!”
This is so true, but some of the other sayings have more dubious standing when it comes to that tricky feat of second-guessing the mischievous and erratic British weather. Such as the notorious St. Swinthin’s Day:
St Swithin’s Day, if it does rain
Full forty days, it will remain
St Swithin’s Day, if it be fair
For forty days, t’will rain no more
I personally find a much better way to predict our unpredictable and fickle climate is simply to look at the sky as we all did before meteorologists ruled the waves.
Being something of a feral child and spending most of my time outdoors, until I became enamoured of academia, I learnt early to spot changes in the weather well ahead of time. This became most useful when I learnt to sail on the River Severn with my father. A notoriously tidal river, it is imperative to predict the elements for the duration of the outing, or race, not only for safety, but indeed to harness the conditions to win the race. This is especially important when the wind is cutting across the tide, which is inconducive to a leisurely and relaxing sail, but can make for a decidedly unpleasant experience.
Alas, the iPhone is still my DBH’s first port of call, and mine resolutely remains the rising and setting of the sun and the colour of the skies!
PS. I have just realised that I plan to publish “Rural Writings and other Dog Tails” on the Saint’s Day – let’s hope it’s fair and there’s no rain on our parade!





