cloud seeding Archives - Circles in the SandCircles in the Sand

“I’ve found you a new job!” I told DH excitedly the other day. “When you get bored of flying to exotic destinations with an army of attractive flight attendants, you could be a cloud buster!

“Just think, you’d be home every night!”

I’m not sure if it was the latter that was the cause of the nonplussed look, or the fact that in aviation you normally avoid cumulus clouds, but something about his response told me that while he did nearly end up cloud seeding in Texas some years ago, he wouldn’t be applying.

‘Franken-rain’ has been a topic of conversation in Dubai this week, because we’ve been having some really unseasonal, lovely weather. By now, we’re usually holed up in air-conditioned, tightly sealed bubbles, but this week windows have been thrown open to let in cooler air, the sound of thunder and the scent of fresh rain.

Really, really odd for this time of year.

Cloud seeding has been taking place in the UAE with thunderous success. Photo via Gulf News

The UAE dabbles in cloud seeding from time to time, with thunderous success this week. Photo via Gulf News

My suspicions were raised when a friend put on Facebook: “Awesome weather today! Thanks Sheikh Mo for the ionization!” And, if you think about it, modifying the weather in the UAE is something we’d all love to see. Imagine if the pleasant winter temperatures could last just a little bit longer – into mid-May and beyond, giving us extra time to enjoy outdoor activities and extending the tourist season.

My hunch was confirmed when I read in the press that the National Centre of Meteorology and Seismology (NCMS) has been seeding clouds since April 21 to coax the wet stuff out of them. “We are only enhancing the rainfall,” a NCMS scientist was quoted as saying – in other words, the showers are only in part due to the cloud seeding, but manufactured raindrops have indeed fallen.

So how do you persuade a wannabe rain cloud to douse the dry desert below? (and not sail on to a neighbouring country to shed its watery load elsewhere?) Here comes the science – and bear with me, it’s fascinating. Apparently, they study the weather charts in the morning to work out when convective cloud formation is likely to occur. The pilots are briefed and remain on stand-by, while the scientists continue to monitor radar images to make sure they catch the beginning of cloud formation (known as the initial stage of the cloud).

Once the operation starts, a plane flies into the lower third of the cloud, where the updrafts are more prevalent, and releases a chemical salt that gathers the tiny droplets of water in the air into larger ones. When the air has no more resistance to hold them, rain falls.

Impressive, no? And, in an arid country where there’s a shortage of water resources, giving nature a little helping hand in order to boost groundwater storage certainly sounds a good idea. But it does make me wonder: what on earth is IN those raindrops falling on our heads?

Expat Telegraph: How do we feel about the UAE’s Franken-rain?

For months now, we’ve been teased.

Women have threatened to dance at wine o clock – wearing fascinators and feathers, their shoulders squared and a far-into-the-distance stare fixed on their botoxed faces.

Scientific puppetmasters have talked about (and possibly carried out) cloud seeding, in which steel lampshade-like ionisers create artificial clouds in the desert sky.

Then, last night, it finally happened: it rained.

And I slept through the whole thing, even the thunder and lightening that I’m told occurred.

It was nothing like a few years ago, when Dubai had hail stones so bad that all the cars were left with an ‘eggshell’ finish and we thought it was the end of the world.

But when we got up this morning, there was a strange darkness creeping round the curtains – Twitter was buzzing with rain tweets from Dubai-ians and the ground was actually wet.

The kids pressed their noses against the window and I joined them, peering out at the marvellous colours: the rain washes all the sand away and so instead of the tans and beiges we’ve been seeing recently, the trees and plants looked green. It’s like seeing your garden in technicolour and appreciating that it’s a lush oasis in the desert, not just a dusty yard.

Even the birds looked like they were dancing!

The world may watch us, rather bemused by our excitement, but when you live in a region where there’s only on average 13cm of rain a year, it’s the equivalent of a white Christmas every time it rains.

Ironically, DH was just off to Toronto and talking about sunscreen. They put it on in the cockpit as they fly over the North Pole apparently. I offered him one of my five or six bottles of sun tan lotion, before waving him off to the airport – and seeing the boys off to school.

Then I sat down with a cup of tea, my eyes glancing skywards at the grey clouds gathered above, and enjoyed an atmospheric, almost romantic (!) couple of hours on the laptop – the ground, by now, completely dry again and not a spot of rain in sight.

Oh well, there’s always next year.