A page of handwritten notes on lined, dirty refill paper. On the upper right side is a pencilled spiral, and on the lower right side is an image of a simple barometer constructed from a glass and dish.
Headline: Summer Storms.
Not precisely regular every summer, but predictable enough. Old World writings indicate they develop in the far North, where the heat helps them grow. Warm water is the key to their growth and movement, and they form as spirals that turn as they move, with a hole of calm at the centre. Spirals are common in the art of the Old World, and I can’t help but wonder if this is part of that. Not that it can be seen from below; we must take the word of our more knowledgeable ancestors here.
Storms travel north to south, generally, often with an easterly bias. Streaky thin clouds from the northwest are among the best warnings of an approaching storm. An upturned glass, submerged under water then raised back up with a small bubble of air (see sketch) can be used to detect changes in air pressure, such as an approaching storm. Lowering water level within the glass indicates a coming storm. Storms tend to progress down one side of the land or the other, most often the east coast (just our luck). A direct strike is rare, but can cause flooding (the storm pulls water up, which is how the glass works) and the people should be told not to treat the calm centre as the end of the storm. Otherwise, they are not too different from winter storms.
There is some indication in old documents that the storms have increased in strength and number over time, due to mistakes made by the Old World. This is hard to quantify, but our older citizens say that in their memory, things have gotten worse over time. Not that that’s an uncommon sentiment.