Double Vision with Charlie Adley
It’s mesmerising, nostalgic and distracting. Whirlpools of big fat snowflakes are swirling around outside my window and it’s difficult to concentrate on work.
Today we have been told to stay in our homes until 3pm. To softies like myself who grew up without conscription, or millions of tons of enemy bombs falling from the sky, this form of national instruction feels as close to wartime as anything might.
Well, ye lads did call what the rest of the planet refers to as The Second World War: ‘The Emergency’.
Maybe in Ireland, land of paradox, where nothing is as it appears to be, this emergency is a war and snow is the enemy.
Of course snow presents dangers, and we mourn those who lost lives to the weather, but given the rare frequency and low levels we see of snow here in the West of Ireland, it feels benign and beautiful as it falls.
We are not trapped in our home. We’ve just been instructed to stay in, and it feels rather wonderful.
Along with the rest of you I went a bit bananas over the last few days, and have collected gas cylinders, briquettes and enough food to feed a village.
We already had torches, batteries, matches and candles, because we live on the Atlantic seaboard. Storms always come and go, as does the electric power.
It would be disingenuous to complain that somehow Met Eireann got it wrong, just because where I live, nothing bad happened.
Doubtless elsewhere people were very thankful for the precautions they took, but while it’s very easy to lose ourselves in all the logistics, here, right now, with the Snapper, my friend Whispering Blue and Lady Dog in the house, not one of us is the slightest bit nervous.
Alone here during Storm Desmond I was, as Biblical types might have it, sore afraid. Apocalyptic tropical rain fell, relentlessly, constantly at full force, from dusk to dawn and into day.#
To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.