Country Mouse

Weathering the storm

IAM writing this last week early on Friday morning. Storm Eunice is predicted to arrive in the next few hours and the BBC is saying it could be the worst for 30 years. Who knows? You will by the time you read this.

With the COUNTRY LIFE team scattered like confetti across Britain—ever since the company made us remote workers—we’re rushing to get this issue printed before power and the internet may be denied us. It is great when things can be done at the push of a button—until they can’t be.

During my lifetime, there have been two weather events that stand out: the summer of 1976—when the land was baked to a parchment and even my school let us sleep outside—and the Great Storm of 1987—when I was working at Tattersalls, the horse auctioneers, in Newmarket—and spent the night calming dozens of terrified yearlings with frazzled minds and legs as fragile as glass. They survived, but the main avenue of trees into the town was destroyed. It was reported that these trees had been planted by Napoleonic prisoners of war; it seemed a bit unfair to blame them.

I am not sure about the naming of storms, but I have never met a Eunice before and I hope she is civil.