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For 111 years, climate change has been in the news. Are we finally ready to listen?

I wrote this article one year ago today, but I’m republishing it here because, well, it’s still relevant.

On August 14 1912, a small New Zealand newspaper published a short article announcing global coal usage was affecting our planet’s temperature.

This piece from 111 years ago is now famous, shared across the internet this time every year as one of the first pieces of climate science in the media (even though it was actually a reprint of a piece published in a New South Wales mining journal a month earlier).

Paper summary: the world’s longest known series of parallel temperature data: Adelaide, 1887–1947

Parallel weather observations are crucial for combining historical weather observations with modern records, so we can accurately see what our climate was like back in time.

Most datasets go for two or three years, but in Adelaide, Australia, Government Astronomer and Meteorologist Charles Todd and his team took measurements in two thermometer stands for almost 60 years! This makes the Adelaide dataset the longest known record of its kind in the world.

The monthly mean values of these records were found and analysed in the 1990s, but the daily observations remained lost to modern research until recently, when they were unearthed by volunteers in the South Australian Bureau of Meteorology office. This remarkable team imaged and digitised the data, turning the chicken scratchings into a dataset we could explore.

The power of instability, and stories

This post — a return after several years away — is not a deep musing on how the last year has destabilised us all.

It’s not an angry argument for why we need to challenge the boring, stale and stable ideas of what power looks like (although I’d like to write one).

It’s not even an inspiring listicle about how my life has changed since it lost all stability (i.e. since I became a mum).

It’s about thunderstorms.

Paper summary: historical extreme rainfall events in southeastern Australia

Most instrumental weather data that we use to study rainfall in Australia only extend back to 1900, which makes it hard to capture the full range of our highly variable climate.

In a new study we have used historical rainfall observations in Melbourne, Adelaide and Sydney to add an extra 60 years of information to our climate record.

Visualising climate change

Recently I was invited to talk to the computer science students at John Monash Science School by their wonderful teacher and all round superstar, Dr Linda McIver. The students had been working on different ways to show climate change data, Linda told me. Could we talk about that?

A chance to look at visualisations of climate data? How exciting! In five minutes I had a page full of examples to think of to share with the students. The presentation pretty much made itself.Continue reading “Visualising climate change”

When helpful is unhelpful

Question.

Tell me what you think about me.

No, I’m serious! Please, tell me what you think about this scenario.

A while ago I spoke at a small research meeting. I gave a 20 minute talk on my science. I engaged with my audience, answered general and specific questions, and hopefully came across as knowledgable and measured.

I also arrived early on the day of the meeting as the organisers had mentioned they would like some support. I carried piles of papers to the meeting room, helped to fill up water jugs, and dispensed snacks. When the meeting was over, I helped clean up.

None of the other meeting attendees did this. They’re all nice guys who work hard, respect their colleagues, and have all been in the team much longer than I.

The thing about wind

I’ve written before about my frustration/hatred of wind in daily life, but today I wanted to raise another complaint: using wind data in past climate research.

Wind direction is easy and cheap to monitor. All you really need is a damp finger and a decent sense of which way is north.

The strength of wind has also been observed for a long time, for its vital role in turning windmills and pushing ships.

But the thing about local wind information, is that it’s just not great for climate research.

How’s about that weather then? 26 and 28 March 1844

People love talking about the weather. Whether it’s on Twitter in 2017, or in letters to the Editor in 1841, we are never short of a meteorological-based conversation starter, particularly in Australia.

The aim of these posts is to share some of the events that piqued people’s interest back in the day. Not always the hottest, driest, coldest or wettest day, but some days that got people whinging.

During this week in 1844, Sydney experienced a swing of temperatures which was echoed across the colony of New South Wales.

Continue reading “How’s about that weather then? 26 and 28 March 1844”

It’s the little things

It’s been over four months since we said goodbye to the sunshine and summer of Catalonia and returned to the changeable grey of Melbourne. It’s incredible how fast things disappear into the past, and already our flat in Tortosa seems like years ago.

We will always have a home in Catalonia, as it will always sit in my heart. At the same time, it’s nice to be back among the wide streets and wide accent under the big Australian sky.

As H and I have plowed on with work and friend reconnecting and getting married (!), it’s hard to find time to miss the big life things that we had in Spain. The freedom, the castles, the late nights and the history. It’s more the little things, the subtle ways that I have changed since we flew out of Tullamarine on the first day of summer in 2014.

Seeing as its 12 days until Christmas, here are the 12 little things I’ve noticed since coming back home:

A week in the life of the free range researcher

Since returning to Australia in August, my working life has taken a comfy new shape. Don’t worry, I’m still rescuing data to improve our understanding of European weather and climate. But now I work from home, surrounded by magpies and hot pies, rather than mountains and the hot Mediterranean sun.

As a remote researcher I am free to work wherever I like, keeping my own hours, and maintaining a level of dress sense that would embarrass most of you.

But despite the freedom that working from home provides, I’ve found that the days tend to slip into a weekly cycle. This is good for my sanity, and for my tracksuit pants, that do need a wash every now and again.

Monday: Home day

I dawdle out of bed at 8:30am, safe in the knowledge that it is still Sunday night in Europe and I have the whole day to prepare things for my colleagues’ Monday morning. Also, my commute is four seconds long. Trackies will remain on all day and productivity is high due to a lack of office distractions.

At about 11:30am I remember the pot of tea I brewed at 10am, and realise why tea cosies are such a good idea. Talking to myself and singing along to the radio while working are standard behaviours on a Monday, as well as a little indulgence of daytime television.

Tuesday: Chore day

Time to brave the outside world and buy some food. Might even put a load of washing on, and do the dishes. Tracksuit pants remain the uniform until lunchtime, when I head to the market and run those mail-collecting, appointment-making errands that you can only do from 9am to 5pm. This takes up most of the afternoon, meaning I am working frantically when 6pm comes around, ready to chat to colleagues who have just started their day. Emails are the last thing I see before I go to bed.

Wednesday: Friend day

Emails are the first thing I see when I get up. For all the freedom of being a roving researcher, the time difference does make it hard to switch off from work. To combat that, I have lunch with a friend and her newborn, again relishing the things that you just can’t do if you work in an office. Plus it gets me out of the house. Cut to 7pm and I am attempting to work, bring in clothes and prepare dinner at the same time. So much for no distractions.

Thursday: Outing day

After three days of being home-based, it’s time to go rogue. My home Internet is struggling to upload the data I need to send to Europe, and my tracksuit pants are starting to smell. Off to the city for me!

I start in a café, feeling like one of those stylish people who work on their laptop in a café. I listen to some St Germain while I code and drink too much tea and try in vain to get the free wifi to upload 5GB of data. I leave, hepped up on tea and busting for the loo, and hole up in a university library instead. Here the toilets are free and (if you’re lucky) the eduroam Internet works. I might even organise a work meeting with a local collaborator, to remind myself of the wide and wonderful world of research in which I am still living. How fun to have an outing!

Friday: Friday

After yesterday’s exhausting outing. I’m ready to bring in the weekend with another productive day at home. Might even stay in my PJs for a while and start working early, before my brain wakes up enough to procrastinate.

While working from home means that you can really do it at anytime, I try to keep my weekends for living. I attempt to draw a line under what I have done for the week, and set things up to start well the following Monday. In reality, this means making a long list of things I haven’t quite finished, waiting for me and my pot of tea on Monday morning.

This, so far, has been my experience of working remotely. Is it how you work from home? How do you stay motivated when working by yourself? How does one make a good tea cosy? Please, let me know!