“Everyone complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it,” as the saying goes (a quote attributed to either Mark Twain or his friend Charles Dudley Warner).
Indeed, we can’t control the weather, yet we love to comment on it. Whether it’s a work meeting, or a call with a family member, it’s reliably the first talking point.
I always assumed the weather was mainly a conversation ice-breaker, or a way to decide what to wear. But I’ve been seeing it with new eyes lately, ever since reading ’Thunder & Lightning’ by Lauren Reidniss. As with all mundane things, they’re seemingly boring on the surface, and endlessly fascinating once you start digging further.
It turns out our relationship to the weather is meaningful, ancient, and mysterious. The weather is not only rain, fog, wind, and heat – it is also a source of dominion, war, profit, pleasure and forecasting (all chapters from Reidniss’ book).
For thousands of years, the weather was associated with divine intervention – seen as a punishment or reward sent by the gods, spirits, or witches. Even today, natural disasters can still be used as means for scapegoating certain groups. We often need a source of blame for things we cannot control, even the weather.
Our fear of the weather is not unfounded – it can have dramatic effects: devastating lives, habitats, and communities. Countless industries are also affected by the weather, causing damages to global food supplies and economies. The American Meteorological Society tallied the impact of the weather on the US economy in 2008 to $485 billion. I imagine those numbers have further increased in recent years.
So it’s not surprising that we’ve tried our best to predict the weather. And it’s not a new endeavor either: the Babylonians, as early as 650 BC, used cloud patterns and astrology to decipher the sky. We’ve moved to more elaborate tools since then, yet most weather predictions can only claim to be right “80 percent of the time.”
There are infinite factors that affect the weather. Indeed, in the 1970’s, meteorologist Edward Lorenz presented his research coined “Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil Set Off a Tornado in Texas?”
Lorenz has found that the tiniest perturbation in the air, “like the flutter of a butterfly”, could have dramatic consequences on the weather – making long-range weather forecasting “doomed.” His idea became popularized as “the butterfly effect”: signifying that the smallest change can have life-altering effects.
We’ve gone beyond predictions, and have tried to even manipulate the weather. In 1946, Kurt Vonnegut’s brother was part of the trio that invented “cloud seeding” – a technique to add clouds to the sky – which quickly became a military tool used by the CIA.
In recent decades, there’s been a divisive discourse on whether we should try to intervene on the weather. We’ve already had such an impact on the climate, and some fear that geo-engineering would cause further damage. Others believe that human intervention is inevitable, and could be the solution to our climate crisis. The debate is on-going – the weather continues to be out of grasp.
The weather can be mythical, economical, political – and also poetic. Adam Nicolson, a writer at The Guardian wrote: “Can there be anything in any language to match the poetry of the shipping forecast?” He was referring to the maritime weather update that airs four times a day on BBC Radio 4. He goes on to describe the weatherman:
“The voice of the announcer… [is] the voice of God, all-knowing, untroubled... concerned to protect you from the violence of the world…’Rockhall, Hebrides. Southwest gale 8 to storm 10, backing southerly, severe gale 9 to violent storm 11. Rain, then squally showers… Faeroes, Southeast Iceland. North 7 to severe gale 9, occasionally storm 10 later. Heavy snow showers.’ That is the poetry: vastness and violence described in tranquility.”
I hope today’s Full Moon edition offers you new ways of thinking of the weather – with 7 sensory explorations: SEE, HEAR, SMELL, TASTE, TOUCH, BALANCE, and ENVISION.
As inscribed on the exterior wall of the National Weather Center, I wish you:
TOTUM ANIMO COMPRENDERE CAELUM
“To embrace the whole sky with the mind”
PS: Today is the last day to claim your copy of ‘Monoganimals,’ a mini-zine for paid subscribers. If you’d like one, please email me your mailing address or upgrade your subscription.
In Joy,
Sabrina
SEE
‘Thunder & Lightning’ | book by Lauren Reidniss
Available online
I was eager to share this recommendation with paid subscribers (in Present Sense №3) as it was one of my favorites reads last year. I credit Lauren Reidniss for sparking my weather fascination.
The book takes a journalistic approach, weaving in historical facts, personal narratives, and beautiful illustrations –– imbuing this mundane topic with awe and wonder.
Some highlights include learning about the town of Svalbard, which has a population of “2,000 people and 3,000 polar bears”; how ice from New England was exported all over the world; and ways to protect oneself against snowblindness.
HEAR
David Lynch | weather report
Watch on KCRW or YouTube
Driving along the palm trees, with the radio playing David Lynch’s weather forecast, is the ultimate LA experience. During the pandemic years, KCRW, the popular LA-based radio station, made the legendary filmmaker their official weatherman.
It wasn’t exactly a new role for Lynch, who used to post his daily weather reports on his former subscription site DavidLynch.com (2005 to 2010). He brought back the tradition in 2020 and continued broadcasting on the radio and his youtube channel daily for over two years.
His weather reports were often accompanied with a song he had on his mind that day, or a social cause he was supporting, and always delivered his wise and odd Lynchian wisdom. His reports were always based on factual predictions, which in Los Angeles is consistently “blue skies, and golden sunshine, all along the way!”
Occasionally, Lynch would sprinkle a bit of absurdity: like delivering a report from the past and one from the future. The featured video (above) is one of his most popular weather reports, when he appeared with his sunglasses declaring: “I'm wearing dark glasses today because I’m seeing the future and it’s looking very bright!”
I also loved coming across this David Lynch weatherman figurine, made by Adam Perocchi.
SMELL
Petrichor | scent after the rain
I’ve always loved the unique smell that occurs after it rains. It turns out there’s a particular word for it: petrichor. The process happens when the oils accumulated on rocks and vegetation are released after the rain, evaporating into a fresh and earthy scent.
As explained in ‘Thunder and Lightning’:
“In a 1964 article in Nature, mineralogists Isabel Joy Bear and R. G. Thomas coined a word for the smell, “petrichor”: petr– for rock or stone, and ichor, a reference to ambrosial liquid said to run through the veins of Greek Gods.”
TASTE
Eating Clouds | invention by Future Food Studio
Learn more online
This month’s theme was the perfect excuse to research whether anyone has made edible clouds. I found my answer in Future Food Studio (formerly I & J Ideations), founded by Irwin Adam Eydelnant. As a biomedical engineer with a passion for food, Eydelnant has been developing new ways to interact with food.
In 2014, he created “edible cloud,” by creating a “technology that allows for the vaporization and consumption of cloudified foods.” The project “originated as a purely conceptual project” and then evolved to “experiential and entertaining food and beverage interactions.”
The process is fairly simple: a glass vessel containing flavored water and a vibrating device, turns “the liquid into tiny droplets as the energy emerges from the surface.” They “edible clouds” come in a wide array of flavors: straight-forward ones such as mint, licorice, and butterscotch. But also more surprising tastes – the first cloud ever made was borscht (Russian beet soup). Other original flavors include red wine, chicken noodle soup and even hot dog, which smells like “toasted bun, italian sausage, mustard, ketchup, and relish clouds.”
TOUCH
The Old Farmer’s Almanac
Available online
I recently received my first copy of the Old Farmer’s Almanac. Known as “calendars of the heavens”, almanacs have been published since the Middle Ages, offering weather predictions, tracking sunrise and sunset times, and ocean tides.
The only two books that were often found in the homes of American colonists were “a bible and an almanac.” They guided the timing of crop planting, offered home remedies, and useful everyday tips.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac, has been published yearly since 1792, when “there were fifteen United States and George Washington was president.” Its motto has always been to be “useful, with a pleasant degree of humor,” delivered in the form of aphorisms, absurdist puns, and mysterious haikus.
Over the centuries, the Old Farmer’s Almanac has built a reputation for mystical fortune-telling, “an aura of prophecy in spite of all attempts to avoid it.” In November 1963, they wrote a cryptic allegory, which ended with “night is coming on and murder perhaps.” The line is written next to a specific date – November 22 – the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
Most of the stories though are usually light and playful. The riddle for March 2024 reads:
“Still cold, still wet? You bet!
Clocks ahead: Don’t forget!
Lawn busy thawin’; look for shamrocks upon!
Spring has begun, but snowy showers not yet done ––
big earmuffs for the Eastern bun!”
BALANCE
Tempest Prognosticator (1851)
One of the oddities included in ‘Thunder and Lightning’ was the “Tempest Prognosticator,” also known as “Leech Barometer.” The invention, presented by Dr. George Merryweather in 1851 at the Crystal Palace exhibition in London, claimed to use leeches to forecast the weather.
The contraption involved a glass jar with bells, where the leeches were kept. According to the scientist, when a storm was approaching, the leeches would climb the walls of their glass jar, causing the bells to ring. The more bells rung, the “higher the probability of a storm.”
But according to leech expert Mark Siddal, curator of Annelida and protozoa at the American Museum of Natural History, the tempest prognosticator is “total bullshit.”
ENVISION
‘Rainworks’ | water-activated artworks
Seattle-based artist, Peregrine Church, has been creating public art installations that only appear when it rains. Using superhydrophobic coatings, the artwork is invisible until it gets wet.
He’s been able to do it in plain sight, since he’s been assured by authorities that his practice is legal: the coating is non-toxic, non-permanent, only sometimes visible. Artworks can last between 4 months and a year (only appearing when wet) but are most vivid within the first few weeks of application.
Like the artist states in an introductory video: “It’s sort of the ideal Seattle art. It’s going to rain no matter what. Why not do something cool with it?”
He mainly creates fun and motivational messages. Though he’s received commissions, he refuses to “advertise anything, because that would conflict with the purpose of rainworks: to turn rainy days into something to look forward to.”
Oh my goodness, what a perfect description of the shipping forecast. And petrichor, which we have an abundance of at the moment, is one of my all time favourite words (and smells), there’s also a beautiful piece of music by Einaudi titled Petrichor which I can’t recommend enough 🤍
So many good things in this one, thank you! Petrichor is a favorite of mine, and I didn’t know about the “rainworks” art, so cool!