Gwaith 17: Snow in Corris

Haia Pawb (Hiya Everyone)

A couple of weeks ago, we had a little bit of snow, though the temperature wasn't cold enough for it to do more than settle in nooks and crannies on the tops of the hills surrounding the town. However, this morning I woke up to snow covering the ground and still falling.

View out my bedroom window

After taking some photos from the front door of Stiwdio Maelor, I threw on some clothes, including my waterproof overpants, and went for a walk.

From the Stiwdio Maelor doorway

When I first wandered up the road, the snow was falling so fast I thought I might not last too long. However, it slowed down after a few minutes and after I took some photos close to the village, I went up past The Italian House.

A field just down the road 

Birds dancing on the snow?

Today was not my first experience of snow. I have visited snow fields near Melbourne. However, this is the first time I've actually experienced walking through softly falling snow and walking on a thick covering of snow. One thing I noticed was the sound of my boots with every step on snow that no one else had traversed, a crunch-pop as the weight broke through the top layer of snow crust and burst through to the softer stuff below. Not quite the snap-crackle-pop of that old TV ad for Rice Bubbles, but close.

Below are more photos from my walk:

My footprints 

The Italian House

The trail to the lookout

Once I brushed away the snow from a flat slab of slate, my usual meditation spot at the lookout, I sat down to absorb the view of white crusted trees, swaths of snow on nearby rocks and smothering the bases of trees, and the distant slopes half hidden by mist, half bleached by snow.

Distant view from the lookout

Closer view of trees

Some ruins at the lookout

The Arthurian pool at the back of the lookout

From the pool

Whenever the traffic from the main road on the other side of the valley disappeared, all I could hear were the occasional creaks of pine trees as they bore the weight of snow, the constant tumble of water into a pool to my right, and the soft plops of snowdrops on my jacket. Every now and then a robin, a coal tit, a tree sparrow or some other hidden bird would trill, tweet, chirp or chit-chit-churr its appreciation or annoyance at the chilly whiteness around us.

An old slate miner's house

The trail down the other side of the hill

By a local kid

By the time I returned to Corris, the road was wet with snowmelt, and, as the day wore on, the snow disappeared, drawn up by the hidden sun’s heat into a mist that hung over the valley.

Corris in Snow

As always, I hope you enjoy this post and I welcome your comments.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

What do you think? More tomorrow!

PS. I realise I have been quite lax in posting news of my travels. My excuse is that I have been busy with the Christmas trip to Germany to catch up with Jo and with tackling my 3000+ words a day of draft three work (which has not been entirely successful), plus Welsh language and landscape immersion. I’ll write another post soon to let you know the status of things. Thanks again for your ongoing support.