One of the most beguiling aspects of living in Britain is sampling its ever-changing climate. Expats who have swapped the grind of life in the UK for warmer, sunnier climes overseas, may exhort their new laid-back continental lifestyle, but mention a sweet English springtime, a languid summer’s afternoon, a foggy autumnal evening or a brisk walk on a chilly winter’s morning, and very soon you will have them crying with nostalgia into their cappuccino. You can’t replicate that dizzying array of seasons in Los Angeles or Dubai.
But those of us still stuck here had better enjoy them while we can, because they may not be around for much longer: for the weather patterns, as with so many other areas of this fragile planet, seem to be going haywire.
The country should now, in mid-January, be in the grip of deepest winter, but instead of snow, ice and frost, many of us have been trying to remember how to turn on the air conditioning in recent weeks.
The UK is experiencing the warmest winter on record – although Britain is bracing itself for a pronounced cold snap – and you don’t have to consult a seasoned meteorologist to know it, but merely to glance out of the window. From my own vantage point I can see spring bulbs already pushing up through the soil in my garden, while our flowering jasmine is in bloom about three months ahead of schedule.
Indeed, last month a friend texted me from busy, bleak Oxford Street to say that his Christmas shopping spree had been momentarily interrupted by the unwanted attention of an angry bee. “Something’s very wrong” was his dread summation.
Nobody relishes a really harsh winter of course, and deep snow soon loses its attraction once you’ve had your obligatory snowball fight and then have to struggle into work, but there is something deeply unsettling about the climate right now. Along with soaring temperatures we’ve also had unprecedented rainfall.
This autumn it has cascaded down on us in unprecedented quantities, and the resulting flooding has inundated homes and businesses throughout northern England and Scotland (including the historic cities of York and Carlisle), making people’s lives a misery in the process. And just when they thought it couldn’t get any worse, they’ve had to put up with Government ministers wandering around in hard hats and waders.
The issue of global warming and the rapidly changing climate is nowadays on everyone’s lips. To some, it’s the single biggest threat to the health, wealth and the prosperity of all living beings, while to others, it’s a conspiracy theory dreamt up by big business and/or meddling scientists with too much time on their hands. The recent world climate summit, held in Paris last November, offered real hope that temperature rise may be restrained, when it managed to put in place an international accord to reduce greenhouse gas emissions involving 200 separate countries: a Herculean effort that had delegates hugging each other at the conclusion. Yet, with so many of its targets non-binding or voluntary, only an optimist would put away their worry beads, for marrying the economic and cultural demands of such diverse nations as the Maldives and China will be no easy matter. The next 30 years will be crucial. After that – say many scientists – whatever we do, it will be too late.
Thankfully for those of here in Britain, there’s been a return to a semblance of normality of late, with a cold front blowing down from the Arctic and dusting northern Britain with snow. You can almost hear the collective sigh of relief as we all turn up the central heating. But I’m taking no chances, and I’ll be carrying both sunscreen and thermal underwear with me to cover all eventualities.
One thing is certain. Whatever we’re doing to our poor battered old planet, it’ll be fine. It is, when all is said and done, here for the long haul. A few hundred thousand years and Mother Earth will sort itself out again. It’s only us – Homo sapiens – that stand to lose everything if we mess up.
Michael Simkins is an actor and writer in London
On Twitter: @michael_simkins