Our January blew in with sudden squalls and sea gales off the Celtic Sea, and a week’s sojourn on west coast Anglesey. From the sands of Aberffraw and nearby Newborough we could see the mountains of Snowdonia across the Menai Strait, a wood-cut frieze: sometimes steely grey, sometimes indigo; watch as snow dusted the high slopes. The place was blisteringly cold, but enthralling too. And we did have sunshine interludes too.
And the deep-cloud afternoons did give up their gloom just in time for some breath-taking sunsets.
And then, too soon, it was time to leave, and then, as often happens when we drive over the Menai Strait away from Anglesey, the morning light failed. An eclipse of the sun? Some ancient Celtic curse on the land made manifest? In any event, our hundred-mile, mid-day drive home to Much Wenlock proceeded through a depressing dusk, although it did have its moment of mystifying grandeur as we wound through the Llanberis Pass. Can you spot the tiny white farmhouse at the foot of the photo?
And so back home and last week’s walk up on to Wenlock Edge, taking the field paths behind the house. A gentler landscape certainly, and warmer too after a brisk upward hike. Also from our side of the Edge its true drama is quite concealed. We see only fields and treetops, but when you reach the path that runs along the ridge summit, it is only when you peer through the underbrush that you see that the land simply drops off – falling through hundreds of feet of hanging woodland, so steep as to be inaccessible except to birds and small mammals and perhaps an adventurous deer. This impression of no-man’s-land and apparent lack of management by humankind adds to its eeriness. On winter days, too, when the trees are bare, you can glimpse the village of Homer way below, and beyond it the farm fields of the Shropshire Plain.
The path up to Wenlock Edge
Looking back on the town
Over the Edge
On the homeward path with view of the Wrekin
And on the home front, a wintery upstairs garden:
But still a few crab apples left
And in the kitchen: some surviving allotment marigolds and crusty spelt-flour soda bread:
The Changing Seasons: January 2022. Please call in on our hosts, Ju-Lyn in Singapore, and Brian in Australia and see their January vistas.
33 thoughts on “The Changing Seasons ~ January 2022”
what lovely landscapes, and i do see the white farmhouse, what a location!
Thanks, Beth. I wonder what it’s like to live with such hugeness brooding over one’s home.
it must be a special feeling
Such wonderful seascapes and cloud montages. I did see that little white cottage. The “Over the Edge” is a tanglement of wonder. Fabulous post Tish 🙂 🙂
Thank you for all those lovely words, Brian 🙂
Ah, the lovely Wrekin, looking like a slumbering dragon.
That’s an excellent description, Jude.
I love that photo of the Llanberis Pass!
A humbling kind of landscape 🙂
I enjoyed this outing with you. Thanks Tish.
Thanks for coming along, Flower.
Changing seasons…and I just read we are in for a pole shift in 14 months. Good grief.
Now that I’ve not heard about, though I had read it had there had been some shifting.
A fabulous summing up of your month. What a good idea to do it largely through land and cloudscapes.
Many thanks, Margaret. You can tell where my mind is 😉
Love that first image, most atmospheric, Tish
I love tracking weather on the move like that.
Way too many photos to comment on, Tish. 🙂 The weather in those first photos might have been uncomfortable, but it made for some wonderfully moody photos. I love the shot of the mountain dwarfing the cottage.
That mountain is quite momentous, isn’t it.
Great post. Marvellous images.
A very silvery and big jacket month, Tish. Except for the crab apples and marigolds, that is.
Difinitely a big jacket month, Tracy 🙂
I love the winter drama but that’s probably because I am not out in it! Evocative post, with a perfect finish of bread and marigolds
Thank you, Becky. Plucky little flowers, marigolds. Very heartening. The bread, however is heartening but fattening.
we need fat with those wintry clouds!!!
Of course we do! Thank you, Becky. Time to get baking again.
Wow! What lovely scenery you bring to us, Tish; thank you for bringing us your Changing Seasons.
I love the moody broody skies of your vacation week. And your winter garden – so charmingly wistful. I am always so delighted by crab-apples … so tiny and adorable. I have a box of alps atome mini-apples … they remind me so much of your crab-apples.
Many thanks, Ju-Lyn. Much appreciate your gracious hosting.