‘’This year’s incredibly hot, dry summer had the
doom-merchants out in force.
Quote:
‘So this is global warming – Europe is going
to turn into a desert!’
Quote:
‘All the fish are dying in the Med, Spain
and southern France
are burning, people are dying in thousands of heat – this is a Biblical
catastrophe!’
Between
them, the Greek TV channels and the Daily Mail had us all in a panic, gasping
for breath.’’
I
wrote the above paragraph in an article for The Corfiot in September 2003!
Nine
years ago.
So
there really is nothing new about this wonderful extension of summer that we have been
experiencing in October 2012.
The article went on: ‘The heat is going to continue at least to Christmas!’ said the
Corfiot soothsayers – and within days the weather had changed and our first
September storm took its toll.
But
then October came on stage, dressed in gold, with azure skies, new grass
sprouting emerald beneath the olive trees, swathes of autumn crocus and
cyclamen, trees, refreshed, lifting their heads again to the sun that was still
surprisingly warm. ‘’
‘’For
anyone who has not yet experienced just how quickly the seasons can change in
Corfu, the middle of October must have been a revelation. ‘’
Barbati two days ago
Barbati yesterday
But
back in 2003, a very special storm was
looming, one that pitted the might of the north against the spite of the south,
and..
‘’
One evening, after a wet and blustery day, the wind swung round abruptly to the
north, gathered strength and reached Force 10 to 11, and swept into the bays of
Coyevinas and Avlaki at about midnight, screaming like a banshee, behaving like
a tornado. The sea was whipped into three-metre high waves of astonishing
power, and tons of stones were scooped up from the seabed and the beaches and
dumped several metres inland. The Avlaki road disappeared beneath the pebbles,
its wooden decking was ripped up and hurled away, with whatever was left in
place looking like a railroad along which a tornado funnel has traveled – wood
splintered and ripped into freakish shapes. The road along the beach at
Coyevinas sank and buckled as the stones on which it was laid were scooped out
by the waves. Tourists staying in a beachside villa found the sea lapping at
their front door.
By
the next morning, the beaches were completely re-shaped, and the sea was calm,
with the still menace of a raider waiting to make another surprise attack. On the Albanian mountains opposite, a thin
layer of the first snow greeted early risers, to vanish quietly as the sun came
out to illuminate the destruction.
A
week later, a night of continuous hard rain, and a sullen southerly wind has
laid its own gifts at Corfu’s door.
South-facing beaches, such as Ipsos and Barbati have been desecrated by a thick tidemark of seaweed,
which has brought with it the most amazing amount of rubbish. Not just natural
debris, such as tree branches, weed, planks torn from distant jetties, but also
tons of the ugly plastic rubbish we so thoughtlessly throw away, to find its
way into the sea. Plastic of every kind – disposable cups, empty containers
that once held everything from water to bleach, punctured lilos and beach toys,
broken chairs.
A
natural justice – all that we so carelessly throw away to pollute the sea and
the environment, returned to us again by the sea, ultimately ours to dispose
of again, but responsibly this time.
In
the end, it seems, Nature gets its revenge and flaunts our predictions in our
faces.
Just
to underline its point, the dragging clouds over Albania lifted briefly to reveal
the highest peaks draped in the first real snow, glinting in the sun, here to
stay this time.
So
much for the hottest summer ever. ‘’
2003.
Nine years ago.
Today,
as so often happens, we had rain and thunder near Corfu Town
but not a drop in the north of the island. The unpredictability of Corfu – one of its greatest frustrations, one of its
greatest attraction.
Not
a drop fell in the north of the island.
It
is impossible to be bored in Corfu, with
weather like this. It is also impossible to be completely accurate in our
predictions.
Bittersweet October. The mellow,
messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause
between the opposing miseries of summer and winter.
- Carol Bishop Hipps
Another
autumnal day, today. That old autumn feeling creeps in. A touch of melancholy,
a tinge of nostalgia. Katie Melua’s sweet, sad ballads on iTunes. Thinking
about making apple pie or walnut cake. Thinking, too, about putting on some
socks and maybe throwing a fleece around my shoulders.
Is
this goodbye summer? Feels about right, feels about time. Funny thing is, all the blogs I read are about autumn, too.
Photos are my own and also by Frosso, Chris, Bob in Michigan and my sister.
Mother Nature will always retain her power to surprise us. But there's little doubt that there is a warming trend and significant climate change going on. . .
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