Thursday, September 27, 2012

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT - delight of delights


Awoke to the delightful sound of rain – a good steady rainfall with wind fretting the windows.  Even indulged myself with a nice bowl of muesli - with a potato cake . . . and with Carrington's lime marmalade - whilst still in bed. What a decadent life I live!

Oh, dear, just realized, regrettably, that it is Phil’s first day of class – not so great for him. But then again, maybe it’s just par for the course, as he hails from northern Scotland – just ‘a day in the life,’ as it were.

[The following day the headline from our local newspaper, the Birmingham Mail, read ‘Month’s rain in just 24 hours! Full story: Pages 2 & 3.’ Well, that was almost a true statement, as the article went on to report, “At Winterbourne weather station, near the University of Birmingham, (yeah, that’s me!), 48.6mm of rain fell in 24 hours. The average rainfall for the whole month of September is 59.7mm.” It added that the number of road accidents rocketed from 43 to 69 during the same period. * * * Reports keep rolling in: one described this weather occurrence as the most virulent storms in the past 30 years. There has been extensive flooding in the north of England and Wales, and Scotland.

Speaking of Scotland, my housemate, Phil, the student from Scotland, started his studies in meteorology today. I asked him if there were more males than females in his line of emphasis, and he said, well, actually, no – there are more girls, and the majority of those are in broadcasting, with high hopes of ending up in front of the camera as meteorologists.

Just heard on one of the BBC radio stations that a woman was killed in Kew Gardens, just yesterday, when a branch fell on her. (‘The Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew’ takes its name from the southwest London borough in which it is located. This world-famous 300-acres of gardens and botanical glasshouses are the offspring of an internationally important botanical research and education institution. With a staff of 700, it houses the world's largest collection of living plants.) A similar tragedy occurred in a park up Provo Canyon just a few summers back.]

A curious thing about this flooded street I observed a couple days later (see below) was that no sooner had the water abated than the street was awash with workers and hot, fragrant asphalt, and very soon the muddy mess was gone and in its place lay a nice tarmacked road. The interesting thing was the speed with which it had been accomplished – from downpour to fresh pavement. If you had not walked down this path for a couple days, you would not have been aware of what had transpired there. It reminds me entirely of one feature of the events surrounding Milt’s death: spinning out of control, his Porsche had careened into a block wall, the impact of which had stopped his descent, leading to the head injury that resulted in his immediate death. Much later the next day, still in shock, I had ventured out to witness for myself the scene of the crash. I remember being stunned at the pronounced skid marks on the road coming down from the high point that separates Moon Valley from central Phoenix, as he attempted to right his slide. (This had occurred on Seventh Avenue.) But the most amazing aspect of all was when I discovered that the block wall into which the car had collided was now, only a day later, completely repaired – as if nothing had ever happened there. It brought up sharply to me just how very fragile and ethereal one’s life really is – here today, but by tomorrow, utterly whisked away.


Photos_

1- riparian view of a little side street I often walk down on the way into town
2- University of Birmingham playing fields, both with forms of artificial turf, after the downpour (hockey field in the foreground, football (aka soccer) in the drabber green