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Illustration by Marley Allen-Ash
I am fairly certain that my husband’s first thought each morning is of the weather. Before he notices me, hiding under the covers to avoid the light that slants through the closed curtains, he reaches for his phone and opens up his weather app. It isn’t just any app. It is a subscription app that tracks the course of storms across North America using vivid colours to depict different types of rain or snow swirling across the map toward Ottawa. I too have a weather app, a free app, which may also use authoritative sources for meteorological inputs, but my app is less dramatic and possibly less precise.
My husband provides me with the latest predictions for the day, the week and the all important weekend in order to plan work in the garden, golf or a trip to our cottage on an island. Our cat will then nudge him and use her “I am ready for breakfast” voice. He rises and opens the curtains to see if the weather matches his app’s weather. Usually, but not always, it does. I remain in bed for a few more minutes, reflecting on how these tools have affected our lives.
The apps have allowed us to marvel at an 80 degree centigrade difference between our daughter’s experience in Western Australia and ours in Ottawa one mid-summer day there and winter day here. The apps promote envy for our friends in sunny Portugal, Florida or Victoria while we languish in a February deep freeze in Ottawa. They also engender worry for our friends visiting Brazil as it experiences the worst floods in recorded history. Are they safe? These are the kinds of preoccupations fostered by viewing the weather in various parts of the world.
As we have lived many years on different continents, with widely diverse climates, we look to see what we would be experiencing if we were still living there today. We recall the daily temperatures of 32 C and dripping humidity of Singapore. How did we manage to adjust? We relive the magnificent blue skies and crisp days of winter at 5,000 feet above sea level in Harare, Zimbabwe. And we remember the bright summer days and low winter clouds hovering over Lake Geneva, Switzerland. Such memories and many more are sparked by viewing our weather apps.
I have come to realize that this, one might call obsessive, concern with weather is not unusual. Canadians are known for our intense interest in weather. We begin every interaction with a comment on how uncharacteristically cold it is today, how wonderful a sparkling day of spring sunshine is or how miserable it is when it should be nice outside.
I go downstairs to enjoy my first coffee and listen to the news on the radio and television.
Approximately every 10 minutes, during the morning and afternoon commutes, there is a radio segment for the news, traffic and weather. Often the weather portion is delivered in the most excited voice – it seems that the announcer enjoys giving the worst predictions. For years I have marvelled at how these announcers can say authoritatively that the weather will be a certain way but when it so often doesn’t materialize, they predict again with the same authority. They wouldn’t dream of apologizing for the error. It is the best job on Earth: It provides the opportunity for individuality and drama many times a day with no responsibility or accountability.
Later I will step outside, with our cat and my phone, to enjoy the actual weather in our garden. Before I check my messages, I glance at the weather app. It lets me know that it is sunny but will cloud over soon and remain overcast for the rest of the day. This causes a mild panic as I have to enjoy the sunshine before it is smothered. My husband and I compare our apps to plan our activities for the day based upon the predictions of our tools. I wonder why the information provided is so different. We argue briefly about which is correct. The app, for which my husband pays, will inevitably win even if it turns out to be wrong.
Before these apps invaded our lives, we would peek outside in the morning and dress accordingly while knowing that in Canada, the temperatures can rise and drop by more than 20 C in the course of a day. We would grab a sweater or raincoat or tuque, just in case, and head out to face the unknown. Now we first check the weather apps and still don’t know what will actually occur.
I had several fascinating careers in my lifetime. I only regret not having had the opportunity to be an enthusiastic weatherperson. It’s never too late.
Adair Heuchan lives in Ottawa.