I often said that what ever happens in this world is usually caused by something, which in turn is a consequence of that other thing, which was triggered by a distant event that we aren’t even aware of until it’s too late.
Take Iceland, for example. Who would of thought that something as far away as a volcano erupting in the North Atlantic could cause some effect on us? I decided to check just how far away we are from this event and goggled it. I discovered that Iceland is pretty close to us (4000 km or so, which equals two Chisasibi-to-Val-d’Or return trips) and thanks to the jet stream, which constantly flows around the world from west to east, this eruption shouldn’t bother us too much. Or should it?
For once, the skies were quiet enough without having an exhaust trail to mar the perfect blue skies of the north, as most flights to Europe were cancelled due to well-founded fears of falling from the skies in powerless aircrafts. Imagine the insurance claims for all those flights. Best to stay on the ground said officials.
Another thing that bothered us terribly was the fact that it happened in the Arctic, albeit on the other side of Greenland. So if something like a volcano erupted in, lets say, Moose Factory, where all the moose are manufactured in North America, can you imagine the devastation it would cause to many a hunter’s annual ego boost? How about the dietary consumption of proteins without at least a pound of moose meat per year? My god, we’ll have to import moose from Newfoundland, where there are more moose than men.
How about a tornado? We are lucky in the north, as tornados need warm, moist air to be created. Even a heated political gathering over global warming can’t muster enough hot air to cause more than a small twister. But, with warmer climate changes forecasted, does the warm air creep slowly northward? So maybe one day, we will have tornadoes occurring more and more often.
To my knowledge and experience, I saw two twisters that touched down, one near Nemaska and one behind the commercial centre in Chisasibi, which happens to be an ideal place to start a wind to whir around more than other places. In both instances, the clouds were menacingly black and the winds increased violently quick, too fast to react to avoid the rain coming down sideways. The Nemaska incident rained, but the Chisasibi event was more of a giant dust devil.
May and June are the best times to look out for tornados, but I don’t think I will bother this year. My tornado chasing days are over so I have to hang up all my equipment for good now. So anyone with the guts and a pair of good lungs (so the wind doesn’t suck the air right out of your lungs) to chase the elusive Arctic tornado can be my guest.
Another explanation for the lack of tornados in the Arctic is that it is so vast and under-populated, who would report the sighting anyways? Finally, a good reason to live this far north.
Having watched the news over the decades, the amount of information is almost overkill these days. I long for the days when ignorance was bliss as the world went to hell around us. Today, the bad news is all out there for everyone to see, from the prime minister’s front porch to the backyard of Alberta, to the fishing seas of the Gulf of Mexico and the melting glaciers of the Antarctic, the verdicts are piling up in favour of global meltdown. This means we will be the hardest hit because we will be in the areas with the most dramatic changes. Aarrgh! Doesn’t that just get you in the craw?