Tag: weather

Stormy weather

There was a massive storm where we are in south west France last night.

The crack of thunder was so fearfully loud, I fully expected the house to be cleaved right in half when I ventured out with the dogs first thing this morning.

The last time I’d heard such a roaring snap here was a couple of years ago when one of the garden walls was struck by lightning and tumbled into pieces.

This time, fortunately, the house was still standing. The ground was saturated with much-needed rain and the outside water butt was full to the brim.

There was a marvellous freshness to the air which I could almost taste.

The change in the weather is a welcome break from the soaring temperatures we’ve been experiencing for many weeks.

Family, friends and even readers of my People’s Friend column have been in touch, worrried we might have been caught up in the terrible fires that have swept through tinder-dry pine forests near Bordeaux.

We are fine, but the horror continues for so many in France, and in Spain, too. I heard that even Scotland is not immune, with smoke from a wild fire in the Cairngorms blowing into Aberdeen, nearly 60 miles away.

Climate change is the biggest threat to humanity and we ignore it at our peril.

The lower tempteratures continue here for a day or so and then it’s back to the new normal, with the weather app on my phone showing 38 degrees on Wednesday.

Take care, wherever you are.

Here’s to blue sky thinking

We arrived in France on Thursday, just as the weather changed.

By Good Friday, in the south west of the country, the sun was out, the sky was blue and we were thanked for bringing the weather with us.

As if.

Just like the UK, it has been a cold and wet winter here in France. So to see – and feel – that shining orb looking down warmly – well, it’s been a welcome visitor with a smiley face and absolutely no baggage.

Today, our part of Dorset is similarly clad in warmth. Spirits soar and everything in the garden is lovely, if you forget world events and personal traumas and focus instead on the trees ditching their winter wardrobe and grabbing their spring and summer clothes from nature’s rail.

Lush Places gets back to normal tomorrow, with temperatures plummeting and roadworks all over the place as super-superfast broadband is installed by a roving crew, leading to faster internet speeds and frazzled drivers.

Here, we’re set fair until Sunday when temperatures, too, will plummet along with (if there was any justice in the world) fuel prices. But we all know justice is in short supply these days so I’m not going down that particular route for fearing of reaching a dead end or one great big pothole.

Gather ye rosebuds while you may and make hay while the sun shines and all that.

Be kind, hope for the best but expect the worst and you will never be disappointed.

Speak soon.

Maddie x

Bouncing into spring

When does spring begin?

It’s so confusing, even when you look it up, because there are different ‘types’ of spring – meteorological spring, astronomical spring and even phenological spring. Who knew?

Meteorological spring is already here. It began on 1 March, following the tried and tested formula of three months per season – so December, January and February are winter months, March, April and May are in spring…and so on.

It makes sense and is easy to remember.

But the date of astronomical spring changes slightly each year due to the orbit of Earth around the Sun. This year the spring equinox is tomorrow – Friday, 20 March, when the night and day are of equal length.

EDIT! I’ve just seen this on a new BBC story: In the UK, 12 hours of daylight and night time comes a few days before the equinox – the equilux. Here’s the link.

As if we’re not confused enough already!

But, in a previous article, the BBC points out: you may also want to consider phenology – the behaviour of plants and animals in response to the changing weather and climate – as another marker for the start of spring.

And, to cap it all, the clocks spring forward an hour on the last Sunday in March, meaning that British summer time begins.

Spring, summer, shrug of the shoulders, I don’t think any of mind too much as long as the weather is better and the days are longer.

So a happy spring equinox to you all – here’s to a positive adjustment to our internal equilibrium.

That’s about it.

Love, Maddie x

The world is just a great big onion

There is a spring onion on the path to the church.

I’m not sure how it got there but maybe it’s a sign of spring.

I have visions of it having fallen from someone’s rustic basket as they made their way back from the community shop.

Maybe it made a break for freedom in a sort of stop-motion animation in the style of The Herbs, the children’s television programme by Michael Bond and starring Parsley the Lion, Dill the Dog, the rather fat feathery owl called Sage and those cheeky little Chives belonging to Mr and Mrs Onion, along with a bunch of other herbal characters.

In this episode, the Chives catch a cold.

And to think as children we were captivated by this show. Still, it helped me know my onions (and herbs) and I can still sing the song pertaining to each character.

I’m Dill the Dog, I’m a dog called Dill…though my tail I’d love to get, I’ve never caught it yet!

I’m Bayleaf, I’m the gardener, I work from early dawn, you’ll find me sweeping up the leaves and tidying the lawn…

I’m Constable Knapweed, and I keep law and order. I watch to see that all is well along the garden border.

The spring onion on the path to the church is silent though, probably embarrassed at being named after a season which can’t make up its mind if it’s coming or going.

It was fine earlier this week but now it looks like we’re back to winter again.

I fully expect to find winter greens waltzing along the path the next time I go that way.

See you later in the week.

Love, Maddie x

* The world is just a great big onion / And hate and fear are the spices that make you cry, oh, baby / And the only way to get rid of this great big onion / Is to plant love seeds until it dies, uh huh (woo!)

Nice weather for ducks

Oh, what weather we’re having here in Lush Places.

Rain, rain and more rain. And when it’s not raining, it’s grey skies.

Dull, dull, dull.

It can be foggy here at the best of times. When other places nearby are bathed in sunshine we sit under the misty radar.

There’s a kind of microclimate at work, but not in a good way.

No-one tells you that before you move here, you find out only after it’s too late.

Currently, the village is in a grey state of doom, as are many places in the country ever since the new year began.

There are parts of South Wales and South West England where it’s rained every day since the door opened to let in 2026.

This weather saps the soul and, coupled with the worldwide fall of humanity on the depravity scale, it’s enough to make you want to curl up and come out in May, along with the bluebells and tulips.

My headphones are drowning out my sorrows and tinnitus, with wall-to-wall Stevie Wonder, an old friend’s Sunshine Pop playlist on Spotify and out-of-this-world ethereal music by We Are All Astronauts.

Still, if it wasn’t for the weather, we wouldn’t have anything to talk about.

There were blue skies on Wednesday and the snowdrops in my sister’s garden were chattering away like nobody’s business. Small joys to cheer up a dreary time.

On that note, have a great weekend.

Love, Maddie x