Mount Abu weather

Uncovering the Weather Mysteries of Mount Abu

Mount Abu, also known as the Abode of Gods, is a site of tranquil beauty and enthralling vistas. This hill station in Rajasthan, India, is nestled in the heart of the Aravalli Range and has a climate as diverse as its rich history and culture. For ages, travellers and residents alike have been captivated by the ever-changing weather patterns in this lovely sanctuary. But how can one properly comprehend nature's whims in this magical land?

The modern world provides us with several opportunities to see what Mother Nature has in store for us. We might just turn on the television and watch the latest weather forecast. We can find weather information like temperature, precipitation, humidity, and the day forecast there, all nicely packaged for us. But the age-old issue remains: Can we trust these reports?

I just set out on a quest to learn the truth about Mount Abu's weather. A quick internet search led me into a rabbit hole of contradicting stories and untrustworthy sources. I soon learned that weather forecasts on TV and in daily newspapers are frequently exaggerated. They appear to be motivated by the need to maintain their good ratings rather than giving us a realistic picture of the atmosphere. As a result, I had to seek counsel elsewhere.

For years, I had my set of unusual weather indications. I used to forecast impending rains with astonishing precision, due to my mop of blonde hair that inexplicably kinked up. With a salt-and-pepper beard and a significantly receding head, I now have an extra barometer—my body. My arthritis and joint symptoms appear to be reliable predictors of changing air pressure, and I've learned to rely on them.

But what about the indigenous peoples, who have lived in peace with the land for centuries? The residents of Mount Abu rely on their strong bond with the environment and animal behaviour to forecast the weather. The march of ants, carrying their valuable eggs to higher ground, foretells of approaching rains. The Yellow-wattled Lapwing makes its nest in high places to avoid severe rains. Flies are also said to increase greatly in anticipation of a plentiful monsoon. The Pied Cuckoo, known for predicting the monsoons, arrived in our area on the 15th of this month, confirming the start of the rainy season..

The monsoons have undoubtedly honoured Mount Abu with their presence. It all started on July 24th, with the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops, which has since been a daily companion. True to Abu's character, the environment has engulfed the region in mist, resembling an unexpected guest knocking on every door. So far, we've received around 15 inches of rain.

Deciphering the weather in a site like Mount Abu, where the contemporary world meets old customs, is as much an art as it is a science. The weather on Mount Abu is as mysterious and captivating as the Abode of Gods, regardless of the information source.f

 

Plummy A Sight to Behold

The descending clouds smiling at me

The green foliage caressing me

My face is all bathed in misty dew

Every year I keep yearning for you

The arrival of the Pied-Cuckoo Mount Abu

The Pied-Cuckoo is Running Late. 

This year, the much-anticipated Pied has made its appearance later than expected. Last year, I saw this harbinger of the monsoons on the 2nd of July, but this year, it appeared on the 15th of July, 2010. I’ve been awaiting its arrival since mid-June, often venturing with my camera. On the 16th, I went in search of it again, and though I only heard its marvellous call from a valley inaccessible by road, its presence was undeniable.

 Now that the Pied-Cuckoo has arrived in Abu, I’ll be sharing some snapshots of these and other birds that head this way at the start of the monsoon season. According to folklore, these birds are the true harbingers of the monsoons, arriving a week or ten days before the rains begin. So far, our monsoons have not started. Each day, heavy clouds accumulate, only to vanish by evening.

Yesterday, the bunyas held a “Havan,” lighting their sacred fire and pouring kilos of ghee over it to appease the rain gods. Unfortunately, the rains did not break, leading me to humorously speculate that the ghee might have undergone adulteration, as is often the case with many products here. Perhaps a traditional rain dance like that of the Native Americans might have had a more positive effect.

 Here’s to hoping that the Pied-Cuckoo, all the way from Africa, will usher in the much-needed rain that has been playing peek-a-boo with our small hill station for the last fortnight.

Cheers to the Cuckoo! “Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!”