Has there ever been a tornado in England?

Weather has always held a fascination for my son. Back when we used to read together before bed, he was never drawn to stories about castles or pirates—he wanted books about storms. Tornadoes, hurricanes, tsunamis. The wilder, the better. He would look over the pictures of swirling skies and crashing waves, wide-eyed, as if trying to make sense of how the world could be so powerful and unpredictable.

That curiosity has followed us into daily life. Every Friday evening, we drive to his football training through a series of winding country roads. There’s one stretch where the fields open up and the sky feels huge, and for some reason the clouds there always seem to gather in strange formations. Heavy, low, as if the air itself is waiting. And without fail, at that exact spot every week, he asks…

“Has there ever been a tornado in England?”

Followed by lots of follow up questions….

“Is there going to be a tornado?”
“Can there be a tornado in England?”
“Is that cloud going to turn into a tornado?”

Sometimes the words spill out quickly, one on top of the other. Other times, it’s just one quiet but urgent question. And then, almost as a whisper…

“I feel nervous that a tornado is going to get us.”

And I can see his point when looking at these clouds. They do look like tornados. For him, the danger feels real every single week. And here’s the thing: tornadoes have happened in England. Seems difficulut to believe actually doesn’t it? They’re rare, small, and nothing like the devastating storms we see in America, but they exist. In fact, the UK records more tornadoes per square mile than anywhere else in the world. They just usually pass so quickly that most of us never notice. I tell him this sometimes, hoping facts might ease his fears. But logic rarely calms a storm.

Because being with my son often feels like being in a tornado myself.

Imagine being pulled up into the air and span round and round and round while wind is rushing at you constantly. And in that you have to be completely on the ball. You have to be looking for a way out. Thinking about a strategy. Analysing what has happened and using that to move on to the next thing. All while answering question after question after question. The pressure from the tornado is immense. Your head feels like it might explode. Your brain is scrambled. But still you must perform—you must get it right. It feels like a matter of survival.

And when you think you can’t take any more, the tornado throws you down. But even then, you can’t rest. Your head is still spinning, your body aches, your legs twitch. It can take hours to come down from the physical and mental onslaught. And just when you think you’ve caught your breath, the winds rise again, sweeping you back inside.

And yet, tornadoes aren’t only destructive—they’re awe-inspiring. They have a power that demands respect. They reshape everything in their path. And living inside my son’s storm is like that too—relentless, yes, but full of force and energy that is uniquely his. He has reshaped my life in ways I can’t even describe.

So when he asks, “Has there ever been a tornado in England?” I can tell him yes. But the truth is, the biggest one I’ve ever known is the one I live inside every day.

And, ironically, my son’s tornadoes, just like the ones in England, are missed by most people…..