We weakly drop a hint to the aeronauts.
In the Scientific American, 33-197, there is an account of some hay that fell from the sky. From the circumstances we incline to accept that this hay went up, in a whirlwind, from this earth, in the first place, reached the Super-Sargasso Sea, and remained there a long time before falling. An interesting point in this expression is the usual attribution to a local and coinciding whirlwind, and identification of it—and then data that make that local whirlwind unacceptable—
That, upon July 27, 1875, small masses of damp hay had fallen at Monkstown, Ireland. In the Dublin Daily Express, Dr. J.W. Moore had explained: he had found a nearby whirlwind, to the south of Monkstown, that coincided. But, according to the Scientific American, a similar fall had occurred near Wrexham, England, two days before.
In November, 1918, I made some studies upon light objects thrown into the air. Armistice-day. I suppose I should have been more emotionally occupied, but I made notes upon torn-up papers thrown high in the air from windows of office buildings. Scraps of paper did stay together for a while. Several minutes, sometimes.
Cosmos, 3-4-574:
That, upon the 10th of April, 1869, at Autriche (Indre-et-Loire) a great number of oak leaves—enormous segregation of them—fell from the sky. Very calm day. So little wind that the leaves fell almost vertically. Fall lasted about ten minutes.
Flammarion, in The Atmosphere, p. 412, tells this story.
He has to find a storm.
He does find a squall—but it had occurred upon April 3rd.
Flammarion's two incredibilities are—that leaves could remain a week in the air: that they could stay together a week in the air.