Bride of Climate Change

[Image: The earth is coming to get you... A dust storm in Iraq, via Pruned].

"Someday the U.S. military could drive a trailer to a spot just beyond insurgent fighting and, within minutes," we read, "reconfigure part of the atmosphere, blocking an enemy's ability to receive satellite signals, even as U.S. troops are able to see into the area with radar."
They'll roll up, in other words – and throw storms at you...


[Images: The Grand Island Supercell, photographed by Mike Hollingshead; these temporary parts of the earth, airborne geographies, surviving now only in photographs].

But imagine what an architect, or landscape architect, might do with such a thing: some atmosphere-reconfiguration technology disguised inside pillars, towers and arcades. An 18th c. English garden maze, lined with lichen-covered statuary, and each standing figure is an atmosphere-machine, generating clouds or clearing them. A cure for British weather.
You can turn them all on, in the right order, fast enough, and form tornadoes. The murderer of birds, whirled to their doom. And if it's too close to Heathrow, your garden becomes a national security threat.
Harry Potter and the Garden of Storms.


[Image: Another supercell, photographed by Mike Hollingshead].

A new tower is built in midtown Manhattan, attracting storms, upper floors constantly awash in sleeves of cloud cover. Ghostbusters III. Transmitters hidden inside marshland graveyards far east of London: Dracula Returns.
Or none of the above, just a military unit on a border somewhere, staring through binoculars, preparing to hurl hurricanes, the grand wizardy of war: Bride of Climate Change. A weaponized earth.


[Images: An almost theologically intense supercell, photographed by Mike Hollingshead].