The Cloudspotter's Guide | Gavin Pretor-Pinney #NonFiction

Non-fiction reads are usually a labour of love for me. I start them in a fit of passion and enthusiasm, that then waxes and wanes with my mood, time and other interests. 

I ask you to cast your minds back to a time before Covid. A world safe and secure from disease and disaster, when all was calm and peaceful. Yeah, right!

How quickly we forget the traumas and tribulations that concerned us when things were 'normal'.

Back on the 8th January, I was feeling rather distressed by three months of bushfire smoke. Sydney had been surrounded by out of control fires to the north, south and west. It didn't matter which way the wind blew, we were shrouded in smoke and ash. I hadn't seen blue skies or clouds for months. I began to feel desperate for the sight of just one white fluffy cloud! The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney called my name, or more precisely the lovely cover by Paul Catherall drew me into it's promise of fair days ahead once more.

I read the first half in a fit of smoky sorrow, seeking the stars and more predictable skies. 

But then Covid happened. My reading habits changed. My passions and interests and moods changed. I grew less concerned about blue skies and clouds, and more focused on the invisible germs floating in the air around us.

It has only been with the advent of Spring, warmer weather and the easing of Covid concerns in NSW,  that I raised my eyes to the heavens once again.

I've always been a bit of an amateur cloudspotter.

My interest started when I was about 10. I was required to do a project on the cloud types for school. At the time, I had an uncle who worked for the water board. One of his daily duties was to check the meteorological equipment. He provided me with sheets of information about clouds. I've always loved sorting and classifying stuff, so my 10 yr old self was amazed, then impressed that someone, or multiple someone's, had watched the clouds for so long that there was now a whole system of precise classification and labelling for me to learn.

I have spent many hours trying to find shapes in the clouds. I also found during my teaching years, that cloud gazing was a fabulous way to calm anxious or frenetic classes. 

Recent social media tags have given me the joy of following #cloudporn and our house in the mountains has introduced me to the joys of watching the mist ebb and flow through the gum trees. The Cloudspotter's Guide was simply waiting for the right time to jump out of my TBR pile.

Pretor-Pinney has created a lovely looking book for those of us devoted to gazing at the skies. The book aims to provide the facts about 'all the delightful and eccentric characters in the cloud family' for the general reader. He has included poems and charts and pictures in a glorious 'celebration of the carefree, aimless and endlessly life-affirming pastime of cloudspotting.' 

Cumulus

In 2004 he started The Cloud Appreciation Society. 

There is a cloudspotter's Manifesto and lovely wood engravings gracing the first page of each chapter by Bill Sanderson. Myths, legends, religious beliefs and stories about clouds are littered throughout the facts and figures.

I learnt a lot too.

• For instance, there's the incredible story of Lt-Col William Rankin, a pilot who had to eject from his plane at a height of 47 000 ft, to only get stuck with his parachute and light-weight summer clothes, in the violent, swirling updrafts of a cumulonimbus storm cloud for 40 mins. He was battered by hailstones at -50℃, deafened by thunderclaps and almost struck by lightning. He managed to survive the decompression, the fall and the storm without any broken bones, with only some bruising and frostbite.

• Lightning heats the air around it instantaneously to 27 000℃!

• There is no difference between sheet and fork lightning. All lightning is fork lightning; sheet lightning is simply lightning hiding behind the clouds and illuminating said cloud from behind.

• The main way to classify lightning is by where the bolt goes. To the ground or in-cloud are the most common possibilities, but there's also cloud-to-cloud lightning and cloud-to-air.

• The main difference between fog and mist is that if you can see less than 1km through, it's fog - between 1-2km's, it's mist. They are both earth-bound stratus clouds.

• You can also have advection fog (sea fog), radiation fog, steam fog (Arctic sea smoke), upslope fog, valley fog, freezing fog and ice fog.

Cumulonimbus

• When the sun is low on the horizon, the high clouds will be bright white, the middle clouds golden and the lowest clouds will be red.

• Rainbows are not the only 'optical delights' - there are double bows, cloudbows, fogbows and a glory, which can appear around the head of a cloudspotter's shadow.

• Contrails are man-made clouds. Scientists are studying the environmental impact of contrails. After 9/11 and the three day no flights period, they realised that contrails 'reduced ground temperatures during the day and raised them at night.' Which made me wonder what might be happening to our skies and temperatures now that flights have been drastically reduced during Covid. Turns out that the scientists are asking this question too. 

• And Morning Glory! Not a cocktail or a pretty flower, but an amazing cloud formation almost guaranteed to be seen near Burketown, NT between the end of Sept and Feb...in the morning. A favourite with glider pilots who like to surf the warm currents.

The Cloudspotter's Guide is definitely a keeper.

Strong in the Rain by Lucy Birmingham & David McNeill

Strong in the Rain: Surviving Japan's Earthquake, Tsunami and Fukushima Nuclear Disaster was not exactly what I was expecting.

Before visiting Japan for the first time last year, I read Richard Lloyd Parry's Ghosts of the Tsunami. Parry, like his American counterparts, was (and still is) an (English) journalist based in Japan. His book focused on the effects of the tsunami on one small town on the coast where an entire school of children was lost to the overwhelming wave. His book evolved over several years of interviews with survivors and was finally published in 2017, six years after the tsunami.

Strong in the Rain (published in October 2012) was a more immediate response to the disaster of 2011 and focused on the reaction of the government, media and locals to the nuclear threat that teetered on the brink of major catastrophe for days and days and days.

As a result, it was more report-like in structure and execution than Parry's book which was more personal, and told in a narrative non-fiction style. Both styles have their place and perhaps if I had read Strong in the Rain when it was first published I would have been more engaged with it.

Not that it wasn't interesting, it just didn't grab me the way Ghosts of the Tsunami did. That sense of immediacy had passed.

I did learn that the title came from a well-known Japanese poem by Kenji Miyazawa which has been translated below by Roger Pulvers.

Strong in the rain
Strong in the wind
Strong against the summer heat and snow
He is healthy and robust
Free from desire
He never loses his temper
Nor the quiet smile on his lips
He eats four go of unpolished rice
Miso and a few vegetables a day
He does not consider himself
In whatever occurs
His understanding
Comes from observation and experience
And he never loses sight of things
He lives in a little thatched-roof hut
In a field in the shadows of a pine tree grove
If there is a sick child in the east
He goes there to nurse the child
If there’s a tired mother in the west
He goes to her and carries her sheaves
If someone is near death in the south
He goes and says, ‘Don’t be afraid’
If there are strife and lawsuits in the north
He demands that the people put an end to their pettiness
He weeps at the time of drought
He plods about at a loss during the cold summer
Everybody calls him Blockhead
No one sings his praises
Or takes him to heart

That is the sort of person
I want to be

It's easy to see how this poem could embody the Japanese national spirit, although not so sure about the blockhead part!

Natori, Miyagi Prefecture, Japan 2011

Birmingham and McNeill interviewed six survivors in six different areas to personalise the disaster. As you would expect, all their stories were compelling and heart-breaking. For someone who has never experienced that extreme type of earthquake and tsunami in person, it was often hard to fathom the extent of the destruction. But I could admire their courage in resilience in carrying on afterwards.

One of the relief workers talked about 'post traumatic growth' where 'people have power to face their own grief and gain control of their lives.' I first came across this idea in Leigh Sales book Any Ordinary Day and find it encouraging to know that it is possible to not only survive a traumatic event but to ultimately use it as a growing experience.

I learnt a lot about the history of quakes and tsunamis in Japan and the various preparations that the Japanese had put in place - seawalls, breakwaters and floodgates, early warning sirens and action plans - so many of which completely failed.

But it was the total failure of adequate preparation surrounding the Fukushima power plant that Birmingham & McNeill focused on. From the government, to TEPCO (Tokyo Electric Power Company) officials and media outlets that failed to prepare, report or acknowledge what was really happening. Obviously scaring everyone unnecessarily does no-one any good during a crisis, but denying and ignoring the facts could be equally devastating and even life-threatening.

One of the shocking facts that came out of the court case afterwards, was TEPCO arguing that it was not responsible for the radioactive fallout as it didn't "own" it. "Radioactive materials...that scattered and fell from the Fukushima No. 1 plant belong to the individual landowners there, not TEPCO."

OMG!! Surely this ridiculous claim was challenged at subsequent court hearings.

The Epilogue went on to provide some information on how various towns were coping with the clean up, preparing new and improved warning systems and commemorating the event. From ocean parks, to cherry tree plantings to mark the high water mark, to elevated housing. 

I'd be interested in finding out how things have progressed seven years on. If you know of any more current books on this topic, please leave me a note in the comments.

Jennifer @Holds Upon Happiness posts a lovely Poem for a Thursday each week. This week I snuck my poem into the review!

6/20 Books of Summer Winter
Sydney 16℃
Dublin 16℃

Non-Fiction November - Week 5

Week 5: (Nov. 26 to 30) - New to My TBR 

Hosted by Katie @ Doing Dewey

It’s been a month full of amazing nonfiction books! 

Which ones have made it onto your TBR? 

Be sure to link back to the original blogger who posted about that book.

Before I get started on this year's final non-fiction November post I want to discuss the weather.
Sydney is currently being inundated by a major rain system.
We're expecting a month's worth of rain in one day.
So far we've had 105.6ml from 5:30am to 9am.
I wish I could stay home today, warm and dry and read books and blog, but no, I have to venture out in my gumboots, so this will be quick.

Image source

I have read so many Non-Fiction November posts this year and added so many new books to my Goodreads wish list that I'm not sure I would be able to sort out what book I found on which post.

Nancy has created a fabulous list of #NonFicNov participants with two of their book suggestions that took her fancy.

But I will focus on the books recommended to me back in Week 3 when I asked for assistance in reading about the French Revolution. I asked for both non-fiction and fiction titles.

Nancy - The Chouans - an 1829 novel by Honoré de Balzac

Reese - Napoleon III and his Carnival Empire by John Bierman (& a second rec for the Chouans)

Marina - website - a website about the changing face of Marianne

Massacre: The Life and Death of the Paris Commune by John Merriman

The Paris Commune: A Revolution in Democracy by Donny Gluckstein

Ninety-Three the last novel by Victor Hugo

Michael - Napoleon's Egypt: Invading the Middle East by Juan Cole

Heather G. - a website listing 5 books by people in the know about all sorts of topics

Kate - Marquis de Sade by Maurice Lever

Heather - Madame Tussaud by Michelle Moran

Buried in Print - The Eight by Katherine Neville

O - Reflections on the Revolution in France by Edmund Burke

Doing Dewey - The Black Count by Alexander Dumas

The Invisible Emperor: Napoleon on Elba by Mark Braude

Whispering Gums - Dancing to the Precipice: Lucie de la Tour du Pin and the French Revolution by Caroline Moorehead

Me - Napoleon's Australia: The Incredible Story of Bonaparte's Secret Plan to Invade Australia by Terry Smyth

Thanks to our five fabulous hosts for anther amazing year of non-fiction and a huge thank you to ALL of you for your comments, suggestions and recommendations. It's not easy to get around to all the posts every week, so I'm grateful that so many of you made the effort to do just that.

To complete my non-fiction November with a bang, the recent Classics Club spin, spun me a classic non-fiction bio about Louisa May Alcott - Eden's Outcasts: The Story of Louisa May Alcott and Her Father by John Matteson.

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Before Thomas Thwaites dreamed up the idea of being a GoatMan and before Peter Wohlleben communed with the trees in Germany, Frances Hodgson Burnett gave us the original back to nature, talk with the animals, boy child, Dickon.

Dickon is a kindred spirit to all the creatures that live on the moors. He mothers orphaned lambs and squirrels, talks to the robins and is followed around by a fox cub. He grows the best herbs and vegetables to feed his large family and he has the sunniest, most positive disposition of any human I've ever known!

He is too good to be true.

Mary and Colin are not.

Two more self-indulged, self-involved, selfish children you will not find anywhere.

The Magic of the garden and Dickon's influence changes all that though.

And there you have The Secret Garden in a nutshell.

My lovely Penguin Threads edition was designed by Jillian Tamaki. It's hand-stitched, then sculpt-embossed - front and back - to create a gorgeous tactile, aesthetically pleasing cover. I confess, the cover, ultimately, had more lasting appeal than the story.

The Secret Garden is one of those books I was sure that I had read as a child, but as the years went by I felt less and less certain about this. I knew what the book was about in general, but it didn't feel familiar or known.

Now that I have really and truly read it, I'm pretty sure that this was my first time.

The Indian section at the start and the finding of the garden were vaguely familiar, but I suspect I gave up on the book as a kid at this point. As an adult I loved the descriptions of the moors and the garden coming to life after winter, but as a kid I would have got bogged down by the exuberant and somewhat excessive garden love.

The preachy part of Burnett's voice, I could push into the background as an adult, but as a child, her obvious attempts to tell me how to be a good child got up my nose!

My thoughts and feelings about this book are more ambiguous now.

As an adult I could appreciate Burnett's use of perspective and how this led to her character's developing self-awareness and personal growth.

I thoroughly enjoyed the early sections that read like a homesick homage to English weather and seasons. I loved how she explored the healing nature of nature. I loved learning about 'wuthering' and the Yorkshire moors (a lovely nod to the Bronte's, I thought). The smells and textures and sounds of the moors were described beautifully - she made me want to go a wandering across the heather on the misty morn.

I was pleased to see an unlovely, unlikable, spoilt child as protagonist.

I felt uncomfortable with the racist attitudes towards the Indians, but could accept them as being of their times, reflecting the attitudes and assumptions of Victorian England. I felt a little weird about the miraculous cure of Colin, but of course, the only real malady he suffered from was hypochondria.

Mrs Sowerby, Dickon's mother, was a lovely, warm, generous character, but she also felt too good to be true most of the time. A mother of 12, living on the edge of the Yorkshire moors in grinding poverty being so cheerful and helpful and wholesome? Really?

I very definitely felt that the heavy handed 'magical' parable that the ending morphed into was evangelical and prissy. The only 'magic' involved in this story though, is the magic of mother nature doing her thing in the garden and some children discovering that keeping busy and active is better for you than sitting around bemoaning your aches and pains and only thinking about yourself. I'm not sure how this book has ended up with a magical realism tag in wikipedia.

I have since found out that Burnett embraced the tenets of Christian Science which believes that illness is an illusion that can only be cured by prayers. She also dabbled in the occult after the death of her son, Lionel. We can read The Secret Garden as being a tribute to Lionel and as a way for her to work through her depression and grief.

This explains the strong element of 'healing' via nature and 'beautiful thought', as Burnett called it, throughout the book.

I'm the first to acknowledge that being in nature and thinking positive thoughts are beneficial to one's health and well-being. A lovely story could have been crafted with this idea in mind. Colin's smug Magic lectures at the end could have happily been left out.

How did you find The Secret Garden when you reread as an adult?

Snail and Turtle Rainy Days by Stephen Michael King

I adore snail and turtle, their friendship is so delightful.

They display kindness, generosity and tenderness towards each other and Rainy Days continues this theme.

Poor snail is unable to come out to play due to the rain. No matter what turtle says or does, snail refuses to come out of his shell.

Turtle accepts snails situation and doesn't push him to do what he simply cannot do....until turtle has a bright idea!

With a bit of planning and building and thoughtfulness, turtle comes up with the perfect solution to help snail deal with the inclement weather.

A lovely story that encourages us to think about the needs and feelings of others.

Snail and Turtle Are Friends by Stephen Michael King.

Desert Lake: The Story of Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre by Pamela Freeman

Desert Lake by Pamela Freeman and illustrated by Liz Anelli follows the dry/full life-cycle on and in Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre.

It is possible to read Desert Lake as two separate stories. A descriptive narrative runs parallel to information text (in a different sized font) on each page.

The non-fiction story takes us through the life cycle of rain, abundance and drought that occurs in this area of South Australia every ten years or so.

"The skies above the lake are alive with birds."

While the information text gives us detailed information about the various animals, plants and unique features particular to Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre.

I've always been fascinated by how the animals, particularly the pelicans, know when the lake is full again.

Anelli's mixed media illustrations are a beautiful homage to the colours of the Australian outback. She received a grant to visit Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre for the purposes of illustrating this book. The details, colours and textures in her magnificent double page spreads feel authentic for a very good reason!

Desert Lake was a six year collaboration between Freeman and Anelli. Their shared enthusiasm and passion for this project shows in every word and every picture. It will be a sure-fire hit in every school library and it's another beautiful addition to the growing market in children's books that feature the grand, majestic and unique Nature of Australia.

I suspect this will be a CBCA shortlisted book for 2017.