Filtering by Tag: weather
Beijing is grey today. The sun is an orange ball, and it oddly reminds me of home in summer: watching the sun through the smoke of a bushfire, when it glowed hot and angry behind the clouds, and you could stare straight at it without hurting your eyes.
Beijing is clogged by thick, polluted air. The fog of the city is hanging everywhere: unexcited, uninspiring, unclean. At lunch, I noticed that the filth had permeated the new shopping centre next door: the top floors of the atrium were blurry and distant, as if everything was gently on fire.
Urgh. This is slowly having an impact on my mood: hopefully it clears soon. It’s hard to be happy when you’re surrounded by grey.
Feeling a little bit like Bill Murray in ‘Lost in Translation’, as a have a drink and watch a storm pound Shanghai. Wish I’d brought my camera. But man, it is spectacular, and oddly peaceful. After a 2 day meeting, this is paradise.
Shanghai, you’ve really turned it on. And i’m not looking for symbolism this time: just enjoying the action.
Apparantly, the last 24 hours were the rainiest in Beijing in over 10 years. Well, it certainly was rainy. But the upside is enormous - now that the rain has cleared, we have beautiful blue skies and warm sunshine for the first time in about 2 weeks. Please, weather gods, let this hold until the weekend when we can soak it up.
Now, if all the other little niggles and problems in life up here could follow suit, I’d be most appreciative.
Let’s hope the blue sky brings luck.
I’m sitting at home in the dark, watching a huge electrical storm fly across Beijing. It’s bucketing rain, and the sky is alive with white flashes, which move through the canyons between the buildings. More impressive than the light, though, is the way the sound moves. Thunder crashes, and you hear it in two waves: the real, organic sound of the actual hit followed by the dull, bass driven movement as the reverberations bounce slowly and endlessly through the city, passing from building to building.
I’m about to enter what is probably the busiest two weeks of my career so far. And this massive storm is actually very peaceful. The city stops moving when it storms: people scurry for cover, the car horns fade and the people just…watch. Looking out my window, I can see four other people doing what I’m doing: watching, contemplating the power of nature.
It’s amazing that only an act so violent and dominating can silence this city, stopping the never ending movement in it’s tracks. And tomorrow will probably be a clear and beautiful day. Here is hoping, anyway.
So after 10 or so polluted-as-fuck days, Beijing turned on the waterworks yesterday evening. BIG TIME.
I’ve been hearing a fair bit of whinging from Sydney about the rain of late: my friends, you ain’t seen rain until you’ve seen a proper Beijing downpour.
And now, the air has dramatically cleared.
I have vivid memories of childhood summers in Sydney being completely dominated by a) lots of heat and b) many huge storms. Beijing has brought these memories roaring back to the surface.
Everyday here is consistently, relentless hot. 30+ every single day, and sometimes marching well north of 35 degrees. And every second or third day, huge electrical storms turn the city inside out, with more lightening than I’ve ever seen complemented by torrents of rain (and occasionally hail) with lashings of strong wind thrown in for good measure.
These storms have reminded me of the Sydney of my childhood: before summer changed (as it has in the last few years) into a few randomly smattered boiling hot days in October and February, with mid twenties, humid or rainy months thrown in between.
Fuck you, global warming. I had to move to another hemisphere just to experience the summers of my youth.
At about 3am last night, I was awoken by an incredibly fierce thunder crack. After my initial panic wore off, I lay and enjoyed the storm: sheets of rain, strobes of lightening (new collective noun - write that down) and rolling booms of thunder. The coolest part was the echo of the thunder around the building canyons near my house…that, and the weird feeling of being a little kid again, scared in the storm.
I’ve always loved storms - I can remember climbing on the roof of my house as a kid to watch them barrel in from the west, and then fly overhead to the coast. Last night I sat awake and thought of my roof in Lane Cove, as I watched the storms bombard Beijing from the relative safety of the 21st floor.
By 4:30am, I was tired and wishing the storms would just leave. And then they did, leaving behind only rain and still air.
So it was really windy today. Really windy. And this happened. Right in front of me.