The Medieval Warm Period

Chateau du Clain

July

c. 1412

I pulled out my old Book of Hours this morning and looked at the new calendar page, as I do every month.  The paintings are all familiar but there's always some fresh detail in the little masterpieces.  With weather making bad news across the country, it stuck me that the agricultural scene looked darn hot for northern Europe in early summer. July is early for harvesting dry, ripe wheat in your white underwear. It looks more like late August or September.

So I did some lazy research (Wiki) and found out the picture was painted at the tail-end of what climatologists call the Medieval Warm Period, which lasted from 1000 AD until about 1400.  After that hot spell, global temperatures declined between 1500-1700 causing the Little Ice Age, the coldest phase since the Big Ice Age.  And from that point on, the Earth furnace has been running on high with just a few cold corners scattered here and there. 

Speaking of mini ice ages, it's still wetter and colder than "normal" up here on the NW tip of the country. The weathermen and locals (most hate hot weather) gloat about our good luck in living next to the open refrigerator door called the Pacific Ocean. They are right, but it's annoying to the minority who enjoy a bit of warmth in the summer and aren't ashamed to say so.

Looking at the temperature maps this week, it was almost shocking to see such extremes so close together. In June, Washington state set daily low records (near freezing at night in some places) while Colorado temperatures have reached over 100 degrees day after day.

And now most of the country is broiling hot. My local friends asked if the heat was "miserable" during our trip, but we enjoyed a few 90 degree days in Columbus. Both of us grew up back east, so it was  reminiscent of childhood to feel summer actually feeling like summer.  But I'm glad we missed the big wind storm, and 100+ with humidity is unpleasant and dangerous-- everyone take care.

We are sleeping with the bedroom window shut, but these tall yellow roses are cheerful in the drizzly morning light.

And what's up with the olive tree?  I thought olives only thrived in hot weather?  It's covered with thousands of little green olives.  My harvest last year was exactly one olive-- maybe we'll have to go out and find a press.