Just a drop

I think it is safe to say, both my head and my heart have acclimatised well to Cyprus's version of winter. Newspaper reports have claimed this is the driest and warmest November on record in Cyprus, and many are yearning for some cold, rainy weather to drift our way [note: I am not one of those yearning obviously]. 

Since arriving over a month ago, we have witnessed two burst of rain; first, the day we arrived, huge grey thunderstorm clouds sat over Nicosia, but brought a few strikes of lightening and about enough rain to fill a tea cup. Second, was this morning, and we didnt even witness it. Harry's answer to my slightly confused "why are the roads wet" question, like it was a sight I'd completely forgotten about, was, "oh the council probably came to clean the streets". I wonder if the council came to clean our balcony too? Since this morning, despite my belief that it was colder today (although standing on the balcony in your pyjamas isn't a very reliable method of weather prediction), the clouds have gone, the sun has come back, and, well I won't bore you with the temperature. 

If this rain free period continues, they may shoot rockets into the clouds [sounds silly but I'm not actually joking]. Apparently there is a very effective and high-tech solution to encouraging rain to fall. This is the science; a mixture of silver iodide, dry ice and salt is fired into vertically growing cumulonimbus clouds, which encourages rain drops to join together, producing rain showers an hour after "cloud seeding". Not that you need to know the science, I don't think the clouds over England need any encouragement, but I found it quite interesting that in times of drought (and several months without even a cloud in the sky let alone a single drop of rain qualifies as a drought) science can intervene. Before they can go and meddle with the clouds, reports have to be written and environmental risks assessed, but if they get the go ahead, I'll be needing someone to send me a raincoat please.