The People vs The Weatherman
Since I was a boy, I was always fascinated with the weather. I remember playing cricket in the street after school on a hot summer’s afternoon, then suddenly feeling the relief of the cool change wash over me. The ants would scuttle frantically about, seeking shelter before the downpour. It was like they could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the calm before the storm…
‘Mr. Rayne? Mr. Rayne? Could you please answer the question?’ A voice snapped me from my daydream.
Then the reality of my situation hit.
‘Um. Sorry, could you repeat the question?’
‘Do you, or do you not, admit to providing false or misleading information to the public?’ The prosecutor in front of me tapped her pen repeatedly on the clipboard she was holding.
Now, how do I answer without incriminating myself?
I mean, it is true. Sometimes we get it wrong. But is that really a crime?
And sure, the relationship between the public and us weatherpeople has always been a rocky one. Although, I never thought it would come to this.
I would have to choose my words carefully.
‘I forecast the weather based on data and information collected from relevant sources, present at the time of said forecast. It’s not my fault that between my forecast, and the day of someone’s wedding, the weather has changed. There’s that saying by Al Roker, ‘I don't make plans, because life is short and unpredictable – much like the weather!’’ I laughed nervously.
The prosecutor looked me up and down. ‘So, you cannot predict the weather?’
I hesitated. ‘Well, no.’ Damnit, she had me there.
‘I rest my case.’ The prosecutor sat down on her side of the courtroom.
Now it was my turn to defend myself. I got down from the witness stand and walked over to where the jury was seated. I tried to gauge the feeling in the room.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I assure you, there is a science to forecasting the weather. We use weather balloons to measure pressure, temperature, and relative humidity. However, I admit, on behalf of all weatherpeople, that we do make mistakes. So always carry an umbrella.’ I laughed nervously again. ‘But we are only human. And the weather itself is unpredictable.’
I paused for dramatic effect.
‘Although, it is beautiful in its unpredictability.’ I pointed to a member of the jury. She appeared to be about six months pregnant. ‘That baby of yours was likely conceived on an unexpectedly rainy morning.’
The juror two seats over looked not much older then eighteen. ‘And you, sir. I bet you still enjoy an ice-cream on a surprisingly pleasant day.’
The jury seemed confused.
‘My point is that the weather is not easy to predict. However, there is always a silver lining to this. When conditions aren’t quite what we said, this creates room for spontaneity, which in turn, creates memories that can weather any storm. That, surely, is no crime.'
I paused again.
'I rest my case.’
About the Author: Elyse Harrison
Picture: Julia Pratt, Jubkate Art (@jub.kate)
Elyse Harrison is an environmental professional and writer based in Geelong. Her writing explores the connections between people, animals, history, and the natural world, often weaving together themes of hope, grief, belonging, love, and environmental stewardship. Drawing inspiration from nature, philosophy, and the enduring relationships between humans and animals, she writes poetry and fiction that seeks to find meaning in the fleeting moments that shape our life.
