Typhoon ‘Herbert’ somehow fails to capture the majesty of the most dramatic weather

We’ve had a lot of weather this week, which always reminds me of my dad, 99 this year, although currently snuggled up in an urn on the mantelpiece.

We loved weather. In another life I’d have been a meteorologist as from a tender age I was discussing cold fronts and the Beaufort wind force scale with ease. Working in Hong Kong in my early twenties was a gift because I discovered typhoons and a whole new vocabulary.

I was transfixed by this destructive wind that formed over the Pacific Ocean and then slammed into the coast of southern China, taking in the Philippines along the way. We would follow its shattering progress with trepidation, fixing boards to windows, tying down cars.

But considering their exotic journeys over rice fields, islands, lakes and mountain ranges, their names were utterly inappropriate. Typhoon Andy, for goodness sake, in 1982. Gordon and Herbert were two other low points.

A dull drizzle could be called Gordon at a stretch but not a magnificent untamed cyclone.

Anyway, thank goodness Hong Kong and China have now reclaimed their weather from the British. Typhoons Mangkhut, Rammasun, and Usagi definitely have more whoosh about them.

Maybe we should start naming heatwaves. They seem to be here to stay. Heatwave Maura? Sizzling, fluttering, “throbbing” Love Island is as good a place as any to start the name search.