Agus Anois, An Aimsir
In Ireland we love talking about the weather and observing it.
We even have more than twenty words or terms for rain:
Soft rain,
mizzle,
drizzle &
mist.
Showers.
Lashing,
pelting &
torrential rain.
The Heavens opened,
Cats & dogs !
There was a cloudburst, a downpour and it was coming down in
Buckets !!
Met Éireann is Ireland's National Meteorological Service. It is a division of the Department of Housing, Local Government and Heritage. It is the leading provider of weather information and related services in the State.
I measure the daily rainfall in North Monaghan at 10:00 am every day for Met Eireann.
Even on Christmas Day.
I record the measurement on Form 714.
I get a stipend twice a year for my efforts. My rain cheque !
At the end of each month I send off the monthly rainfall information to Met Eireann's head office in Glasnevin, Dublin.
My official job title is Rainfall Observer.
I have been doing it for 28 years.
In Ireland, like all countries with a temperate climate we have four seasons . Spring Summer, Autumn and Winter.
Sometimes we experience all four seasons in the same day.
If you ask an Irish person the difference between Summer and Winter in Ireland they will probably tell you that in Summer the rain is a bit warmer !
The weather in Ireland is never boring.
Or predictable.
Just like its people.
It is 22nd. January......
There will be a full moon in four nights.
A storm started to blow about 5:00pm. It had been forecast and arrived promptly at the appointed time. Strong winds knocked down my garden fence and the village was dark.
The street lights were out first of course.
Heavy rain swept down and danced frantically around the back yard.
The Christmas tree I planted in the early 1980's seemed to struggle against the violent ebb and flow of the storm surges.
Then the house was without power.
Gradually the windows of surrounding houses were warmly lit by candlelight only.
There was no cold.
We walked down the garden path and looked at the black and grey clouds driving wildly and tumbling uncontrollably across the sky.
Sometimes the Moon poured in through gaps and illuminated the garden.
It was eerily quiet though.
The only sensation was the power of the storm rising and falling and blowing through the Winter trees.
A January storm.
No electrical sounds.
The occasional light of passing cars on the street flitting past the front of the house.
And now the wind outside my window will be my lullaby.
It will have passed before I wake.
I will have some rain to measure at 10:00.
Teeming,
pouring
&
sheeting........
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