Climate All Change

By way of one of those rather inane recollections the weather in the week before Easter last year was hot and balmy.

We well know that, in the UK, no two days of weather will be the same so the reaction to the unseasonably warm weather was understandable. The garage forecourts quickly and seamlessly replaced their stocks of logs, kindling and gritting salt with disposable barbecues, garden furniture and stringy plastic bags full of outside play toys. I drove past one of the town's Pubs at about 3pm on a working weekday to be amazed that the beer garden next to the busy main road was heaving with the local population as though late on a summers evening. I admit that my forward and then rear view mirror vision did dwell a little longer than was decent on a young girl wearing a halter top and short shorts walking from the bus stop although in my defence and to retrieve the situation my immediate thought was 'where is your coat!"

The barometer showed a temperature of 23 degrees centigrade. It did coincide with the school holidays so the beach at Bridlington and the various greenspaces in towns and the City were noticeably well patronised and as with the bounty for petrol stations in the panic buying spree in the previous days it was now the time for a bonanza and increase in sales for the ice cream vendors. The evening air, still warm, was thick with the sounds and odours of cut grass as the weather permitted many first lawn-mows of the year. Even the tree borne blossoms and late daffodils were in some sort of resurgence under the blue skies.

Within a day or so it was all change, not so much back to normal than as far as possible in the extreme.

I was awoken during the early hours by a full raging storm with the driving rain on the front windows of the house breaking my sleep. We lost our third For Sale flagboard leaving just the white painted pole attached to the driveway gate. Mother was upset by the loss of a large branch from her favourite lilac tree in the back garden. On the roadway hard shoulders there was a green veneer which was an initial mystery until it dawned that it was the catkin and pussy willow buds from the verge trees that had been blown into the air and then rinsed out in the torrential rain. In the daylight the stormy conditions brought back recollections of the two days of heavy precipitation that had been the catalyst for the devastating Hull and East Yorkshire floods of 2007. Ironically the wettest day was that chosen for the announcement of the hosepipe ban in nearby Lincolnshire and further south such had been the depletion of ground water and reservoir stocks over the preceeding two years.

On higher and exposed ground towards the coast and the North Yorkshire Moors it was cold enough for snow. The UK does not cope well with variable and extreme weather for which there is no excuse but every time it snows there is the usual public outcry about inadequate resources and equipment for gritting and snow-ploughing. The snowfall was quite exceptional for volume and density with the Fire and Rescue Services being called out for what are called "Structure Incidents" covering everything from loose tiles and dangling Tv aerials to more substantial instability of chimney stacks and roofs.

Many families who had taken the opportunity to get away with a caravan in tow had enjoyed gloriously good weather on the moorside and clifftop camping grounds only to wake up one morning to three feet of snow and sub zero temperatures. Not necessarily a hardship for modern caravans equipped with all mod cons of central heating and large lockers to store the often negelected and undervalued Monopoly and Snakes and Ladders board games which might not otherwise get an airing.