You think about it first thing in the morning. You think about it last thing at night. But why? Why can’t we just accept our geographic and meteorological fate? Let’s explore our relationship with the weather and whether or not we’re just a bit too consumed by something we can’t stop.
Ireland is a nation of poets. Our souls are musical, our thoughts wistful and romantic. We are the bards, the wanderers, the dancers and the jokers. So why can’t we stop moaning about the weather? Seamus Heaney described the Gifts of Rain in a 1972 collection. He depicts it as a beautiful present from Mother Nature to man.
Let’s face it, the only people we really know who love the rain are farmers. By God, they can’t get enough of those moist, Moorish cloud tears. It stirs up the Bull McCabe in them, makes them want to grab a stick, climb a mountain and start a fight.
The rest of us? Not so much. Rain isn’t always rain. There’s a vast array in this country, all tugging on a different emotion.
A bit dirty – the big coat, but not the giant big coat
Dirty rain is annoying. Like a younger sibling who wants to go with you and your friends, but then he’ll just end up telling your mother you were smoking.
It’s poking at us at the bus stop. It’s ruining our hair. It’s not enough to cancel plans. The only thing we Irish love more than complaining about rain is cancelling plans.
A soft day – tis’ lambing season
Not quite as annoying as ‘dirty rain’, but something fresh. Nicely dewy and alright for an amble in the springtime. It puts a person in mind of daffodils and lambs in the field in the early morning – images of damp feet, hills, and mist.
We can deal with a soft day because it brings out the optimist in us. Jack in the pub declares “Begor, but it’s a grand soft day” and all is right with the world.
Lashing – get the big giant coat
Lashing is bad times. There’ll be no drying there, now. You might be potless in a week from having to put the clothes in the hot wash. There’ll be a row about the immersion. There’ll be a row about the heating.
There’ll be a row about the hot press. Everyone is cranky, and your jeans are sticking to you. You start googling “Cheapest Portugal Holidays.” Somewhere, Michael O’Leary is smiling. He knows.
Hammering Down – get the sandbags
It’s all over. It’s hammering down. Get the sandbags. There’s talk of the river breaking its banks. Oh my god, do we have any bread? Milk? We might die. I’m not trying to over-dramatise now, but we might not make it. There’s a run on Brennans. Your mother is crying. Your father is putting a tarpaulin over the entire garden.
You await the apparition of Theresa Mannion with her finger to her earpiece on RTE News, “Don’t make unnecessary journeys!”, easily one of the best Irish TV moments. You bless yourself. No danger, Theresa. Then, just like that, it’s over. You all look around at each other, a little embarrassed at your conduct. You remember having to hold the dog up in a gale so that he could do his business. A sorry moment for you both. He still won’t look you in the eye.
Why do we never stop and wonder what an opportunity we missed? We could have been up on the roof like Victor Frankenstein, harnessing the power of life. And okay, maybe that didn’t work out too great for old Victor, but at least he didn’t stay inside getting unnaturally angry because the Sky box isn’t getting a signal.
While the rain can be a source of great bother for Irish people, what are the more positive things we could do in the rain?
Hike in the rain – but not like an idiot
As long as there isn’t a weather warning. You don’t want to be one of those people who need to be rescued by the helicopter crews because they went up Carrauntoohill in sandals and shorts. You know the type. They walk among us. Or they would, if they had any sense.
Kiss in the rain – like they do in the films
Grab a consenting adult and pretend you’re Spider-Man and Mary Jane. Upside down even, if you want to. Let’s go nuts! It’s a bit American, but we’re good at keeping secrets.
Make an Instagram reel – a walk on the wild side
Actually, no, don’t do this because the last time I did this, I got water in the charging port and the phone wasn’t right for days. Nightmare.
But we’ll still obsess about it. That’s a given, because it’s in us, it’s ingrained within us since the days of foraging in the forest and hunting wolves. We are the Rain People. We are the Water Poets. But let’s take a little notion from Scotland’s finest son, Billy Connolly, and just remember one thing, to give us hope, because maybe “There’s no such thing as bad weather, there’s only the wrong clothes”.
