Storms Isha and Jocelyn

Photo of tree felled by Storm Isha 2024-01 at Drumchapel Park, Glasgow, by Richard Sutcliffe under Creative Commons license

In 2015 winter storms here in the UK began to be named, much like hurricanes are named along Gulf Coast where I grew up. Sunday afternoon and night the UK got storm Isha.

My wife and I, being slightly crazy, were at a nearby secure dog walking field with a friend as the storm began to blow in Sunday afternoon. Our dogs and our friend’s dog had their weekly romp. We had our weekly outdoor chat. When we all got ready to leave and my wife opened the gate to let our cars out, the wind ripped the gate from her hands and smashed it against a fence. But it wasn’t blowing hard enough yet to make the rain sting when it hit our faces, which it did during our Christmas week at the beach.

Our next door neighbor went to the same field with her dog after us. It was blowing harder, but still not too much for any of us… yet.

The storm ramped up quickly after that. During the evening the entire country was under a tornado warning. I don’t recall ever seeing that happen before. When I moved here 17 years ago, tornadoes were considered unusual and nearly always small when they did occur. They’ve become more common since I moved here. Sometimes they are also big enough to do some damage, although nowhere near the monstrous twisters the USA can get.

Monday morning, radio was full of news about the winds having been the strongest the UK has experienced in about 20 years (topping out at gusts of 99 mph to 107 mph), and about train tracks being blocked not only by trees but by sheds and trampolines that traveled last night. (One of my first winter storm experiences in this village was seeing at least half a dozen neighbors chasing a trampoline that was rolling along the road toward the next village as fast as cars drive there. I’ve heard of a field that tends to collect wayward trampolines during storms.)

BBC also played a snippet from an early morning radio show for farmers. The farmer being interviewed talked about his grain fields, 40% of which flooded in the second storm of the season and haven’t emerged ever since. The crop loss was uninsurable. The presenter asked whether crops will be better next year. The farmer said he doesn’t know.

That’s the heart of the problem. It isn’t how strong the winds were or how much rain we got. It’s that Isha is only part of a pattern of change in our climate and the extremes of our weather. Only some people notice that plants are budding now, even blooming now, that shouldn’t bud until March, but everybody notices a storm like Isha.

At long last, I heard something on BBC Radio 4 that I’ve been waiting years to hear or see in British news. World at One (about 16 minutes into the broadcast) interviewed Jim Hall, Professor of Climate and Environmental Risks at Oxford University and a member of the National Infrastructure Commission. He said we need to prepare for the more extreme weather we’re going to get. He said, “That doesn’t necessarily mean just learning to live with it. We can protect ourselves, build and maintain infrastructure to a higher standard [….]” He talked about wind speeds that pylons and buildings are designed to withstand, how much drainage we design for, and so on.

Unfortunately he went on to say that without updated government guidelines, infrastructure owners and operators won’t know what to do or how much it will cost. I don’t believe the builders and operators of big infrastructure are that incapable without government handholding.

It’s easy to kick the can down the road to the next CEO or Managing Director or Board of Directors by using such an excuse. However, kick it down the road too long and Mother Nature will slap the hand that waved off the work—as will shareholders—so sensible organizations will adapt their infrastructure. Those that don’t will find themselves having unpleasant conversations with insurers about high premiums until adaptations are in place. Changes will begin to be made even if government doesn’t set new minimum standards for infrastructure.

Of course this isn’t only happening here. The last time my mother had to get her roof redone, she upgraded to a roof better able to withstand hurricanes. My brother is getting proposals for roof work. He’s looking for a roof with a higher rating for tolerating wind and hail than what is required in his area. Climate is shifting everywhere. Weather is throwing more extremes at us all over the world.

The UK got a reprieve on Monday. On my way home that morning from dropping off a car at our mechanic, I looked to see whether many trees or fences were down. Our part of the country didn’t get thrashed as badly as some other areas, so that short walk wasn’t too bad. However, I decided I no longer envy new-style fences. The base and posts are concrete. You just slide premade fence panels down the slots in the posts and presto! That’s all it takes to put in a new fence. Because the wooden panels aren’t at ground level, they last longer. I saw some panels on the ground, taken out of their slots by the wind. Entire fence panels flying around isn’t great. Fences aren’t big infrastructure, but we could stand to rethink them too. I got home feeling happy with our old-style fence, with all of its elements fastened together firmly—we had to add more fastenings a few years ago after a storm blew some of it down, so now it’s standing up to these storms well.

Storm Jocelyn began to blow in Tuesday and carries on today. Winds aren’t supposed to be record-setting this time, but trees are as tired of this weather as anyone or anything else. By mid-afternoon Tuesday, someone my wife knows had lost their greenhouse to a downed tree.

Some winters are like this. Storms come like cars on a freight train, one after another.

Mother Nature isn’t talking to us. She’s shouting. We’d do well to listen and adapt.