Monday, October 27, 2003
It's been raining in Atlanta for the past couple of days. It put me in mind of Ireland.
"Bfheidh se' bog" - it'll be soft. The weatherman's way of saying the rain will be coming down hard enough to take flesh from bone. (Thank you, Flann O'Brien).
I can't begin to count all the ways I saw it rain in Ireland.
There is actually a soft rain. It's just a step up from fog. You'd almost not notice it. Then you realise you're soaked through.
Mostly, though, Irish rain is windy. Ireland's at the end of the North Atlantic Drift. The wind has all the way from the Gulf of Mexico to pick up strength. By the time it hits Ireland, forget unbrellas. You might keep your head and chest dry, but from the belt down you'll be soaked.
Sometimes it rains in waves: you can be cycling through Connemara and have a wall of water pass over you, leaving you soaked, and experience the same thing all over again minutes later, with the exception that the rain wind will have chiled you out nicely.
"Soft weather, thank God!" - an Irish way of saying the Florida beckons.
I know I saw sunny days in Ireland, so I can't say it's always cloudy there. For example, I remember one Currach Festival in Spiddal that had people out pissed drunk in the sunny streets.
I will say, however, that my general impression overcast skies, light breeze, and rain due.
Here in Atlanta, we're having my favorite weather. Morning temperatures at about 45 degrees Fahrenheit, clear, and very low humidity. Everything is in hyper-sharp focus.
I remember weather in Ireland that was perfect. I have cousins, the Mogans, from my Grandmother's side, who live in Ard, between Moycullen and Oughterard. I remember visiting them one summer and going out boating on the lake. It was one of those utterly still, completely cloudless days when the sun seemed to take forever to go down. It got dark so gradually you found yourself cotemplating relativity: was the day turning to night, or were you turning to blind? Ireland's so far North that there are days in Summer when it seems night will never come.
I remember too, clear winter nights walking home from Mountain View - which is up the road from Killagoola, heading towards Spiddal. The night would be so cold you'd think your breath would freeze in front of you. When the full moon would shine, it would shine so bright, you could see people's faces clear as day. There were fewer houses back there then, and Galway was much smaller, so there was almost no light pollution. When the moon wasn't full, you could catch satellites passing over, meteor showers.
Did I mention there was only one TV channel?
"Bfheidh se' bog" - it'll be soft. The weatherman's way of saying the rain will be coming down hard enough to take flesh from bone. (Thank you, Flann O'Brien).
I can't begin to count all the ways I saw it rain in Ireland.
There is actually a soft rain. It's just a step up from fog. You'd almost not notice it. Then you realise you're soaked through.
Mostly, though, Irish rain is windy. Ireland's at the end of the North Atlantic Drift. The wind has all the way from the Gulf of Mexico to pick up strength. By the time it hits Ireland, forget unbrellas. You might keep your head and chest dry, but from the belt down you'll be soaked.
Sometimes it rains in waves: you can be cycling through Connemara and have a wall of water pass over you, leaving you soaked, and experience the same thing all over again minutes later, with the exception that the rain wind will have chiled you out nicely.
"Soft weather, thank God!" - an Irish way of saying the Florida beckons.
I know I saw sunny days in Ireland, so I can't say it's always cloudy there. For example, I remember one Currach Festival in Spiddal that had people out pissed drunk in the sunny streets.
I will say, however, that my general impression overcast skies, light breeze, and rain due.
Here in Atlanta, we're having my favorite weather. Morning temperatures at about 45 degrees Fahrenheit, clear, and very low humidity. Everything is in hyper-sharp focus.
I remember weather in Ireland that was perfect. I have cousins, the Mogans, from my Grandmother's side, who live in Ard, between Moycullen and Oughterard. I remember visiting them one summer and going out boating on the lake. It was one of those utterly still, completely cloudless days when the sun seemed to take forever to go down. It got dark so gradually you found yourself cotemplating relativity: was the day turning to night, or were you turning to blind? Ireland's so far North that there are days in Summer when it seems night will never come.
I remember too, clear winter nights walking home from Mountain View - which is up the road from Killagoola, heading towards Spiddal. The night would be so cold you'd think your breath would freeze in front of you. When the full moon would shine, it would shine so bright, you could see people's faces clear as day. There were fewer houses back there then, and Galway was much smaller, so there was almost no light pollution. When the moon wasn't full, you could catch satellites passing over, meteor showers.
Did I mention there was only one TV channel?
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