There is a debate enacted in our house on a fairly regular basis and it always starts the same way and usually finishes with the same pronouncement. The genesis of each discussion invariably centres around my repetition of sentiments gleaned from the latest weather forecast in relation to some planned event, usually with doubtful connotations. The conclusion on each occasion is the declaration by someone of importance in the family that you can never trust the weather forecast and that we should not allow our lives to be ruled by such unreliable prognostications of gloom. Each such pronouncement puts me in mind of Billy Connelly’s famous quote to the effect that there is no such thing as bad weather, just wrong clothes.
I have a lot of respect for boffins who make it their life work to interpret the data to give us an inkling of what the weather might look like in a day, a week or a month. I have visited Kelburn Metservice and have spent an informative morning with some of the said boffins whose job it is to inform the country of what is coming. But it has to be said that, with all the data modelling in the world, it is still something of an educated guess to predict exactly what the future holds in any regard.
I think what my dearly beloved is getting at, deep down among the sentiment and subconscious motivation, is reference to my propensity for slavish dedication to such things as news broadcasts and weather reports. My excuse is that I was raised that way and that it is a farming tradition to be informed as to the likely event of inclement weather. Her thesis is that one can learn to move on and put aside acquired behaviours. I’m still processing that one.
I am aware of the negative impact weather predictions can have on commercial enterprises with one such example occurring very recently. We spent ten days in Westport over Christmas and there learned that one motelier alone had lost a number of bookings through cancelations following forecasts of poor weather. We roasted in hot sun and experienced only occasional light showers throughout the entire time we were there and it seems unfair that earning potential was lost because of the predictions made in public broadcasts.
It seems timely to ruminate on this topic as my plans for treadling happily along scenic bike trails this morning are thwarted by precipitation and I await further communication from my cycling companions as to future prospects for venturing out today. While the forecast predicted one thing, the reality is a fine drizzle sufficient to wet ones tail feathers beyond a level of comfort and enjoyment. So it’s back to cleaning out the shed.