Something you get accustomed to in Bangkok at this time of the year is the distant sound of thunder, Mother Nature's way of reminding us of her power and also not to forget the umbrella if we are going out. I emphasise "distant" because the "flash, bang wallop!" thunderclaps directly overhead can be extremely scary and dangerous. But observing thunder and sheet lightning from a comfortable distance can actually be quite relaxing, almost like listening to the timpani tuning up at the Albert Hall.
Last weekend on Saturday afternoon there was an extended period of rolling thunder which felt like it was surrounding the entire city. It went on and on as if the heavens couldn't stop grumbling about the terrible state of the world beneath them. I took the opportunity to sit on our balcony and take it all in. With sporadic lightning accompanying the thunder there was a free "light and sound" show for the best part of an hour.
The thundery weather also prompted a visitation from the dog, who like most canines gets very nervous with all those big bangs. He has found a good spot under the table where he feels safe with the additional knowledge that if he uses his doleful brown eyes to good effect I will eventually succumb and give him a treat.
When it had all quietened down it seemed only right to conclude the afternoon listening to The Delicate Sound of Thunder, Pink Floyd's classic live album at the Nassau Coliseum on Long Island. I don't think the album has anything to do with thunder, but the atmospheric music was an ideal way to finish off a most satisfactory rainy afternoon.
It's raining again
It was Dr Samuel Johnson who said, "when two Englishmen meet their first talk is of the weather." Which may explain why I have always taken an interest in precipitation. According to the great authority on English weather, Paddington Bear, Londoners have 107 different ways of saying "it's raining" with perhaps the most evocative expression being "it's raining cats and dogs". Unfortunately, no one knows where that expression originated from so I'll leave that to your imagination.
Paddington's particular favourite is "it's bucketing down" which is amongst the most popular observations. Most commonly used are variations on "it's pouring down" including the aforementioned "bucketing", "lashing", "chucking", "tipping", "teeming" and "pelting". There are of course other less polite versions probably known to most readers.
When it comes to weather, you can't please everyone. On departing England after an unusually sunny week, American comedian Groucho Marx complained: "I'm leaving because the weather is too good. I hate London when it's not raining."
Rumour of sun
I was brought up listening to weather forecasts on BBC Radio. More often than not the forecast was "outlook changeable" or perhaps "scattered showers with sunny intervals", which frankly wasn't of much help. As Bob Dylan was to inform us, "you don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."
To be fair, we are talking about the English weather which is notoriously fickle. You never know if you are going to wake up to a clear blue sky or a dreary drizzle which could last for days. I remember a forecaster during one particularly grim English summer in the 1960s courageously attempting to cheer up viewers by announcing there was "a rumour of sun". Alas the rumour turned out to be unfounded.
As US film director George Axelrod once complained: "In England, all they ever do is talk about the weather. But no one does a damn thing about it."
The cow-quaker
In England it is hardly surprising that there are assorted regional expressions for rain including "plothering" (Midlands and Northeast), and "mizzling", a Cornish expression for a light form of drizzle. I recall my mother would use the term "damping" when it wasn't actually raining, but there was moisture in the air. I never heard anyone else use it so it presumably came from her Hampshire upbringing. I particularly like "cow-quaker", used in rural areas for rain so heavy it makes the poor cows shake.
Scotland can be a bit on the wet side at times, especially the west coast. "Smirrr" is a distinctive Caledonian expression for a fine, drifting rain and immortalised in George Campbell Hay's poem The Smoky Smirr o Rain.
Probably the most common Scottish word for miserable weather is "dreich", meaning wet, dismal, gloomy, bleak and any other depressing word you can think of. Every country has idiosyncratic expressions for rain, so for a final word we will go to France, where in a storm you may hear "Il pleut comme vache qui pisse" (raining like a cow relieving itself).
Scotland is also the source of the splendid "thunder plump" meaning a sudden heavy shower accompanied by thunder and lightning.
Thunderclap around the world
It would be remiss not to give the group Thunderclap Newman a mention. They enjoyed one huge hit in 1969, Something In The Air. The group was named after its keyboard player, Andy "Thunderclap" Newman who acquired his nickname from the thunderous way he played the piano. The Who's Pete Townshend played bass guitar (uncredited) on the song. It's a catchy number and you can hear it on YouTube. The scary bit is that it's 52 years old.
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