Meteorology by J. G. M'Pherson
Meteorology by J. G. M'Pherson
Though by familiarity made commonplace, the "weather" is one of the most important topics of conversation, and has constant bearings upon the work and prospects of business-men and men of pleasure. The state of the weather is the password when people meet on the country road: we could not do without the humble talisman. "A fine day" comes spontaneously to the lips, whatever be the state of the atmosphere, unless it is peculiarly and strikingly repulsive; then "A bitter day" would take the place of the expression.
Yet I have heard "Terrible guid wither" as often as "Terrible bad day" among country people.
Scarcely a friendly letter is penned without a reference to the weather, as to what has been, is, or may be. It is a new stimulus to a lagging conversation at any dinner-table. All are so dependent on the weather, especially those getting up in years or of delicate health.
I remember, when at Strathpeffer, the great health-resort in the North of Scotland, in 1885, an anxious invalid at "The Pump" asking a weather-beaten, rheumatic old gamekeeper what sort of a day it was to be, considering that it had been wet for some time. The keeper crippled to the barometer outside the doorway, and returned with the matter-of-fact answer: "She's faurer doon ta tay nur she wass up yestreen." The barometer had evidently fallen during the night. "And what are we to expect?" sadly inquired the invalid. "It'll pe aither ferry wat, or mohr rain"-a poor consolation!
Most men who are bent on business or pleasure, and all dwellers in the country who have the instruments, make a first call at the barometer in the lobby, or the aneroid in the breakfast-parlour, to "see what she says." A good rise of the black needle (that is, to the right) above the yellow needle is a source of rejoicing, as it will likely be clear, dry, and hard weather. A slight fall (that is, to the left) causes anxiety as to coming rain, and a big depression forebodes much rain or a violent storm of wind. In either case of "fall," the shutters come over the eyes of the observer. Next, even before breakfast, a move is made to the self-registering thermometer (set the night before) on a stone, a couple of feet above the grass. A good reading, above the freezing-point in winter and much above it in summer, indicates the absence of killing rimes, that are generally followed by rain. A very low register accounts for the feeling of cold during the night, though the fires were not out; and predicts precarious weather. Ordinarily careful observers-as I, who have been in one place for more than thirty years-can, with the morning indications of these two instruments, come pretty sure of their prognostics of the day's weather. Of course, the morning newspaper is carefully scanned as to the weather-forecasts from the London Meteorological Office-direction of wind; warm, mild, or cold; rain or fair, and so on-and in general these indications are wonderfully accurate for twenty-four hours; though the "three days'" prognostics seem to stretch a point. We are hardly up to that yet.
The lower animals are very sensitive as to the state of approaching extremes of weather. "Thae sea beass," referring to sea-gulls over the inland leas during ploughing, are ordinary indicators of stormy weather. Wind is sure to follow violent wheelings of crows. "Beware of rain" when the sheep are restive, rubbing themselves on tree stumps. But all are familiar with Jenner's prognostics of rain.
Science has come to the aid of ordinary weather-lore during the last twenty years, by leaps and bounds. Time-honoured notions and revered fictions, around which the hallowed associations of our early training fondly and firmly cling, must now yield to the exact handling of modern science; and with reluctance we have to part with them. Yet there is in all a fascination to account for certain ordinary phenomena. "The man in the street," as well as the strong reading man, wishes to know the "why" and the "how" of weather-forecasting. They are anxious to have weather-phenomena explained in a plain, interesting, but accurate way.
The freshness of the marvellous results has an irresistible charm for the open mind, keen for useful information. The discoveries often seem so simple that one wonders why they were not made before.
Until about twenty years ago, Meteorology was comparatively far back as a science; and in one important branch of it, no one has done more to put weather-lore on a scientific basis than Dr. John Aitken, F.R.S., who has very kindly given me his full permission to popularise what I like of his numerous and very valuable scientific papers in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. This I have done my best to carry out in the following pages. "The way of putting it" is my only claim.
Many scientific men are decoyed on in the search for truth with a spell unknown to others: the anticipation of the results sometimes amounts to a passion. Many wrong tracks do they take, yet they start afresh, just as the detective has to take several courses before he hits upon the correct scent. When they succeed, they experience a pleasure which is indescribable; to them fame is more than a mere "fancied life in others' breath."
Dr. Aitken's continued experiments, often of rare ingenuity and brilliancy, show that no truth is altogether barren; and even that which looks at first sight the very simplest and most trivial may turn out fruitful in precious results. Small things must not be overlooked, for great discoveries are sometimes at a man's very door. Dr. Aitken has shown us this in many of his discoveries which have revolutionised a branch of meteorology. Prudence, patience, observing power, and perseverance in scientific research will do much to bring about unexpected results, and not more so in any science than in accounting for weather-lore on a rational basis, which it is in the power of all my readers to further.
"The old order changeth, giving place to new." With kaleidoscopic variety Nature's face changes to the touch of the anxious and reverent observer. And some of these curious weather-views will be disclosed in these pages, so as, in a brief but readable way, to explain the weather, and lay a safe basis for probable forecastings, which will be of great benefit to the man of business as well as the man of pleasure.
"Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas."
-Virgil.
* * *
Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce." For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom. However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her. Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good. But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?
Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"
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