Tag: meteorological
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Cumulus, Cirrus, and The Cleveland Hills
As I trudged along the escarpment of Great Ayton Moor, my eyes were drawn southwestward, where a rather theatrical display of clouds was being jostled along by an brisk southwesterly wind. My morning walk had started with a few ominous spots of rain, but which was grudgingly giving way to clear skies. One cannot help…
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Coastal Reverie: From Saltburn to Cattersty Sands
With the tide in my favour, I set off on an early morning walk from Saltburn along the coast. The conditions were almost too favourable, rendering the barnacle-encrusted scar an easy path. Before long, I found myself nearing Cattersty Sands. After passing Seal Goit, a name hinting at visits from marine mammals, I glanced back…
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Welkin’s Cheek
Before “sky” became the common term for the vast expanse above us, it was poetically known as “welkin”—a word closely related to the German “Wolke,” meaning cloud, and even more so to “Wölkchen,” meaning little cloud. Today, the welkin offered a breathtaking sight for those who gazed upward. Shakespeare himself was no stranger to this…
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The Capricious Curse of St. Swithin
Meanwhile, St. Swithin has gallantly come to our aid. Well, here in Cleveland at least. His day has passed with the sort of indecision one expects from saints and weather alike: cloudy skies, some sun, but not even the faintest hint of rain. Are we now condemned to forty days of this? If it does…
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Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Perish the thought. In a recent study published by University College London, the projected climate change for Richmond & Northallerton over the next decade shows some notable shifts. Summer rainfall is anticipated to increase by 2.7%, while the annual temperature to rise by 0.76°C. To place this in context, historical data from 1981 to 2010…
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Inversion Intricacy — The Cleveland Hills from Easby Moor
We left the village this morning, enveloped in a thick fog, anticipating its prompt dispersal under the forecasted sunshine. Soon, intermittent patches of blue sky overhead began to play a fickle game. Only as we finally ascended through the murky haze to Easby Moor at 324 metres asl., we found ourselves above the clouds, affording…
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Another cracking morning
But a wee bit zneesy below the cloud. Above, the tranquility was disturbed by the sound of gunshots as the seasonal cull of pheasants was in full swing. Or maybe the shooters were after partridges, striving for that rarest of presents to give to their true loves — the partridge in a pear tree. Rare…
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Dragon’s breath
Another outing dominated by low lying mists and the sun’s faculence. Bilsdale today. I wonder what our ancient ancestors would have made of these meteorological phenomena. That temporary blind spot after glimpsing directly into the sun — ok, our ancestors would not have been driving. And that low lying winter mist clinging to the fields…