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.

Cyfaredd 7: An Excalibur Moment

Haia Pawb (Hi Everyone)

The last few weeks I have been busy with researching sites for my book, finishing up my residency at Corris, and travelling to Manchester and Ynys Mon (Anglesey) to visit friends and continue the research phase of my trip. So, apologies for not posting a blog for some time. I intend to write about the aforementioned activities and other events of my trip in the coming days, but these may not appear in the order I experienced them. I hope you continue to find them interesting and inspiring.

During one of my walks in Corris, the one that goes past the Italian House, I ended up at the plateau/lookout I have mentioned before. I sat there for some time listening to the birds and watching a bee flit from one flower to another as it gathered nectar.

View from the lookout on a bright day

When I was ready to leave, instead of heading down the path on the other side, I decided to explore the mountain behind me. It had been raining the previous few days and I could hear a waterfall. I scrambled through bramble and bracken and had what I can best describe as an Excalibur moment. The scene I stumbled into, with mist, rock, lush green vegetation, and tumbling water, reminded me of the colours and atmosphere of the John Boorman film (trailer can be found here).

My Excalibur Moment

One of the reasons I applied for the residency at Stiwdio Maelor was to use the opportunity of being in the UK to visit various sites in Wales and Scotland associated with my book and gather experiences I can draw on for the writing. This unexpected moment showed my intuition to follow this idea was correct. (The irony of a film about The Matter of Britain prompting an experience of the same isn't lost on me.)

For those fans of the film, here's an iconic image:

Excalibur and The Lady of the Lake

And for those of you following my enjoyment of jackdaws, here's another photo:

'Who was that director again?' 'Hitchcock.' 'Yeah, loved his Birds.'

I hope things are going well for you.

Until next time.

Pob Hwyl

Earl

PS. After finding out people were having trouble posting comments, I've changed the settings, which means you don't have to log in or create an account.