The Real Climate Conference ©

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Lowe Elementary Library

“That’s it!”

“Enough!” bellowed Thunder, hitting the pack-ice with a hammer blow that rippled the seas and sent a fleet of icebergs South.
 
“Let’s get this straight, once and for all. You cannot change your name. You….Are…Called…Drizzle! You have a light, wetting effect on everything and you’re a bleedin’ nuisance. You are not and nor will you ever be a Storm. Now, can we move on with the climate conference instead of this nauseating weather identification nonsense?”
 
“But I don’t feel like Drizzle. I have a huge energy just wanting to break out. I want to be violent and I want a name!”
 
“You want a bleedin’ name?” roared Cyclone. “You’ve got hundreds of names around the World. ‘Cow-quacker’, ‘Smirr’, ‘Fiss’, ‘Blunk’, ‘Plothering’ ‘Neiselregen’, ‘Petricher’, ‘Pioggerell’, ‘Boonda ‘Baandee’ in Hindi, ‘Phwaar Parna’ in Urdu, ‘моросить’ in Russian and across all the Spanish speaking peoples you’re called ‘Llovizna’. In Scotland alone you’re called ‘Mingin’, ‘Manky’, ‘Murky’ and even ‘Mizzle’. The Munroists down there can’t get enough of you. So, stick your soaking wet blanket up your lee side!”
 
“'Up my lee-side'? That’s offensive. I’ll report you.”
“To you it may be offensive but that doesn’t make you correct,” voiced Cyclone.
“Anyway…,” spluttered Drizzle, “I maybe wet but it’s my right to have a name just like each of the storms.”
 
“Just stop right there!” blasted Mistral. “Some weathers have names because we work for our fame. I blow right down the Rhone while you drizzles just linger; you smother moorlands and you’re miserable. Since when did hours of depressing drizzle cause endless flooding and needless destruction?”
 
“No, what I mean is a Proper name for each of us. Each drizzle is nameless. No one knows who we are; so, we should get our own names just like when every storm arrives, she has a unique name”, dribbled on drizzle. “It’s our Right to be recognised with real names and if we can’t have individual names, then we want the right to identify as storms.”
 
“Drizzle has a point,” stuttered Anvil, whose appearance in the skies above Europe was so devastating that whole cities had been flash flooded and shipping restricted to port. “I hate being a storm…I’m the wrong weather.”
 
The Climate conference delegates choked and spluttered in their bewilderment, sending shock waves across every airstream.
 
“Tu quoi?” asked La Bruine.
 
But before drizzling yet more dampness across the conference, the Tartan Trio traipsed in. “Howzit goain’?” called-out Taps Aff, staggering around the delegates holding a can of stomach-churning Hew Dog draped around the ghastly side-kicks, Daggle and Sump.
 
Thankfully, this drunken interruption was overshadowed by Willy Willy who was being chased by Snow Bomb across the conference, which was still listing in the aftershock of Anvil’s clearly desperate plea. Willy’s cyclonic spiralling abruptly stopped as it slammed into the World’s weather board, which was showing delegates where the climate issues were, and looking around, Willy Willy realised it too was being ignored owing to the frightening arrival of the evil, celebrity twins.
 
The delegates cowed in a grim hush with the appearance of El Niño & El Niña. Every weather had firsthand experience of this pair of gangsters: both having dire reputations for endless out-of-season mayhem. But Drizzle, true to form and insensitive to this being the wrong moment, just kept on the persistent nagging.  “Well, can I be re-assigned as a storm?”
 
Maelstrom, who always seemed to appear when catastrophic weathers collided, rose from the Chair and, glaring with fury at Drizzle, let all hell lose on the delegates, sending shock waves across every weather of the World.
 
When the hoolie had settled, so to speak, along with the waves, tides, winds, snows, dust storms, heat and cold streaks, all the weather delegates were hushed. Even El Niño & El Niña bowed into submission hanging on Maelstrom’s resonating & commanding voice.
 
“Drizzle…,” and Maelstrom paused to ensure attention.  
“Listen carefully.”
“You can think about & call yourself what you like but you can never be a storm nor will you ever have a name. Just like Misty Starts, Scattered Showers and Sunny Intervals, you are eponymous. If you have issues about how you’ve been treated, then we can and we will help you; but Drizzle you are and Drizzle you will proudly remain…..have I made myself explicitly clear?”
 
Silence.
 
“Well, Drizzle?” asked Maelstrom with a piercing look that demanded attention. “Your answer…and, please, just dry-up and stop feeling sorry for yourself.” growled, Maelstrom in a tone of growing frustration, sending a wave of anxiety around the World’s weather.
 
“And...” whilst sweeping a threatening look around the conference, Maelstrom took advantage of the attention achieved and went on, “...as for the rest of you, get a grip!”
 
Continuing with a more subtle and calming tone, “Being part of this World’s climate is a wonderful privilege. You are each unique. We provide this wonderful World with its weather; be that sun or snow and we have a far more serious issue amongst us than re-naming ourselves. Chemicals and artificial heat have never been so devastating; causing disruptions & illnesses across all of us. We’ve never seen so much destruction before.” Then, before being able to turn on El Niño & El Niña, Rainbow appeared and landed one of its feet on Maelstrom who looked on in despair.
 
“Oh, no. What now? Don’t tell me you want to be a storm too? …go on, what is it?”
 
As colours drifted over the conference, the awestruck silence was stunning until a wispy but eerily echoing voice grabbed every weather’s attention.
“Don’t mind me; carry-on, Maelstrom. I’m just here to support you. The World’s Colour Phenomena are with you all the way. When we last spoke, Fire Rainbow, Sun Dogs, Nacreous and Iridescent Cloud are furious with these two ghastly impostors. El Niño & El Niña are a total distortion of their ancestors and need putting in their place. So, go ahead and if they are so stupid as to disrespect us anymore, we’ll soon get them sorted and we’ll take all light away from them…permanently!”
 
As Rainbow’s whispers slowly disappeared, Maelstrom turned back to the two Spanish Cholos.

“You two, despicable opportunists better listen carefully. Your behaviour has sent our ancient Trade Winds & Gulf Streams into despair: that’s why they are not here. Only Doldrum has been able to remain steadfast whilst you two bastards, have blown hot and cold whenever you like. So, if there’s nothing else this Climate conference achieves, it’s putting you two back into order. You are on your last legs and to keep you in check, I have asked Chinook and Kona to keep tabs on you.”
 
Then, sweeping away a huge swathe of Cirrus, as Maelstrom turned swiftly and starred at Diablo and The Witch of November who represented the most destructive winds. “You are not innocent either. Your behaviour has been reprehensible by taking advantage of the chaos caused by El Niño & El Niña. You are under ‘last orders’ too.”
 
Turning back to the delegates, “Weathers of the World,” clamoured Maelstrom. “We are under assault. Our established order is being attacked by those humans who seem oblivious to us. Demanding new names is not going to change the rapid decline of our importance…nor is it going to help us work together. Because working together, we must.”
 
“Instead of isolating ourselves and despicably pushing our own self-interests through weatherism, it is our duty to each other to look after all Weathers.”
 
Ripples of discomfort rattled amongst the skies as Maelstrom, lowered it’s noise.
 
“I come from the humble origins of my parents who ran across the Atlantic. High and Low Pressure became so dirtied by Siberian High who sent waves of anticyclones across Europe, that they gave up their traditional behaviours and left me to fend for myself. I was angry. I became a tyrant, wreaking havoc on the humans’ coastal towns as I whipped-up storm after storm but I was soon too knackered to keep going. And now, proudly keeping Maelstrom as my name, I was shown by our one and only source of energy, The Sun, the way humans and us once worked together.”
 
“Weatherism, like that promoted by the Els from hell, is based on fear. They want to create a vicious rivalry amongst weathers: meaning we’ll remain at each other’s throats. The insidious energy of the identity crisis is rampant amongst us because we are in a mess. So, just renaming ourselves won’t make us any better or stronger. We are frightened of the effect those humans are having on us. So, once we accept this shared fear, we can work together to manage ourselves better. We have to escape this fear to allow rational thinking, otherwise darker fears will make our weathers worse.
 
For sure, we are making the snows melt, we’re creating unfavourable heat, we’re destroying everything that makes the World what it should be: but Weatherism and indulgent self-identity are not the answer.”
 
The Climate conference was rapt in attention and for once, rivalries were in check as Maelstrom, appealed to the assembly.
 
“We must be proud of our differences, enjoy being who we are and avoid the temptation to reassign ourselves. We should, need; no, we must work together to promote our survival and then, if we’re stable, maybe, just maybe, those humans will have enough intelligence to make the changes they need for all our survival.”
 
Before launching into the crescendo of a finale, Maelstrom grabbed El Niño & El Niña by their throats and lifted the downhearted Drizzle, and continued with a caring look towards all the delegates,
“Our future is for us to enjoy and gain strength from our differences. Each of you, whatever weather you are, is part of the World’s climate. Our future is together.”
 
And with that, the Weathers looked about at each other before erupting into rapturous joy whilst Drizzle wept the softest tears of contentment; assured of a place in the World’s weather.

(The entire content of this blog, with the exception of the illustration, is copyright to Andy Cloquet and may not be reproduced without permission)