Summer began today.
After an unconscionably wet spring, the Sun rose to a clear sky and estival forecasts.
Of course, when I say summer began, I am offering an observation, not a proclamation. Alas that was not the case, when two weeks ago, the news media (CBC and others) offered pap about the “official” start of summer.
Official? What official ever proclaimed such a thing? None!
It is an interesting question as to why so many people in the news media insert the gratuitous word, official, when discussing seasonal changes? In most cases where something actually is official—Canada is a country; the speed limit is 80 km/hr—no one bothers to use the word, official. It seems that official is only used when it is needed to bolster a silly claim.
Let us imagine that a minor official in some foreign land did proclaim that an astronomical marker produces a globally fixed date for a shift in the weather. Wouldn’t the rest of us merely treat it the same way King Cnut treated the silliness of his courtiers? Those sycophants claimed he was powerful enough to command the tides. Cnut’s response was that this was demonstrably untrue. Yet, the demonstrable silliness of summer officially beginning on the solstice persists in the news media—a millenium later, Cnut’s courtiers live on. I am sure with the next astronomical marker we will be told about the official start of fall. Sigh….
Summer begins when it begins. It has no beginning fixed by any official; besides, weather doesn’t listen to officials. Today, without the help of any official, summer began.
This was dawn on the Lake yesterday: rain, wind, and waves.
This was dawn on the Lake today: merganser chicks rushed to greet the arriving summer.
and why do they call that long long road in Ottawa a Parkway ? no one is allowed to park on it.
Doug, chuckle. Parkway is, indeed, a marketing term, but one applied to a road with park-like landscaping along and between the opposing lanes. Thus, it is, sort of, descriptive of what is offered—unlike “the official beginning of summer”, where no recognized official is known to have proclaimed such a thing.
I was on the ferry yesterday — your first picture. The swells tossed the Osprey ferry enough to give me vertigo! The wind blowing up the arm toward the lake created drifts of debris on the highway and I’ve never seen whitecaps like that on the arm. I suspect the arm narrows near the Black Angus farm and the Blindman’s house. All in all made for an interesting trip! Love the little Mergansers!!
Anne, the narrows you speak of are the narrowest of all the narrows on the West Arm. Further, according to navigation charts of the Lake, they bear the name, Fraser Narrows. They were named after my great uncle, Sydney S. Fraser who settled on that spot in 1906. Last October, I did a posting about Fraser’s Landing, which seventy years ago would have been the western terminus for that ferry ride you took.
The Fraser Narrows can develop, what is called, a rip. The recipe for it is a strong current in one direction (certainly have that at the moment), and large waves travelling in the opposite direction (had that with yesterday morning’s strong west wind). The waves are brought to a standstill by the opposing current. All the wave energy piles up at this point to make strikingly large waves—the rip.