By Destine Nde
‘Which do you prefer, the hot or cold weather?’ Anybody living in Willowmore for at least a year would had had to answer this question in one way or another. Wherever its residents get together, whether two people or a crowd, sooner than later someone makes a provocative remark about the weather, ranging from ‘Yoh, I can’t stand this heat!’ to ‘Eish, I’m going to freeze!’ Also, there will always be someone who immediately disagrees, preferring the opposite instead.
More often than not, this will turn into a lively conversation – sometimes humorous, and sometimes adversarial. There will invariably be two people in opposing camps who try to speak the loudest and the longest. All sorts of arguments would be invoked: facts, opinions, beliefs, myths, ideas, theories, preconceptions, half-truths, fiction, hear-says and lies, ranging from the profound to the superficial.
But why, you ask, mention all of this? The reason is simple: the weather in Willowmore is prone to excreme as well as rapidly changeable weather.
A recent conversation with MaederOs, founder, funder and Editor-in-Chief Toverview and self-appointed custodian of rural history and heritage, went like this:
‘Destine, hi. How are you doing?’
‘Hi, my Dearest MaederOs. I’m fine thank you. Hope you’re as well?’
‘Very good to hear from you. How’s Willowmore this autumn, for you and others?’
‘It’s ok. Just the weather that’s always changing: now it’s burning hot, now it’s cold, up and down like a roller-coaster.’
‘Go for it! Write a short piece, for the warmth of us all.’
So I thought a bit about the subject. First, I reflected on the usual sorts of arguments, one way or another.
First, the Klein Karoo is naturally arid and sparsely vegetated, and always asking for rain. Its average maximum and minimum temperatures are not that extreme: 24 (oC) and 12 (oC) respectively, averaged over 12 years of historical data. The reason why the town is burning-hot in summer and ice-cold in winter is because of its very dry atmosphere. A poor water cycle is at the bottom of it all.
Fewer rivers and scanty vegetation equals little evaporation. This leads to fewer clouds in the sky. Fewer clouds mean little or no rainfall … and so the vicious cycle continues.
The best time to visit Willowmore is from January to April, when temperatures fluctuate between 24 and 16 oC, with tolerable winds and felicitous showers every now and again. But it’s winter now, and deathly cold. Those who like the cold maintain that its manageable; that in winter one can wear thick clothes, sit by the fireplace with a book, lie under blankets, slumber on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate, or indulge in physical exercise. Whose who favour the heat would argue obstinately that scanty clothes can be worn, cute bodies can be exposed, people can splash in pools or on beaches, and tasks can generally be done more easily and enjoyably.
But my thoughts wandered further. It occurred to me that since time immemorial, humans have never succeeded in controlling the weather. All they have managed to do is to predict it, more or less successfully. That’s why the ancients worshipped nature and its powerful forces, like volcanoes, wildfires, floods, landslides, rainstorms, earthquakes, and so on.
The ancient Scandinavians, for example, used to call these frightening events the Jotuns, and beautiful, gentle, pro-life ones the gods. When gentle rain fell and made the earth smile and turn green, it was a god; but when it ravaged everything, leaving the earth bare and muddy, it was a jotun.
Essentially, the ancients worshipped these powers because they couldn’t be fathomed, and could certainly not be controlled. Some terrible and lamentable things were done to placate the fury of the jotuns: torture, human sacrifice and whatnot. The more so because these gods were believed to be jealous.
Rational modern man has managed to establish a degree of control over natural processes – but only a degree. Sometimes, we still need to bow before the awesome forces of nature. Nature can still be either benign and nurturing, or malignant and deathly; and its daughter, the weather, either wonderful and awesome, or terrible and awful. In line with this, the people of Willowmore continue to oscillate between the swimming pool and the fireside.
