Wrought by sea winds over many seasons.
This photo was taken last December when we spent a few days in the England-Wales border town of Hay-on-Wye. I was standing in the main car park as the landscape lit up. It was very very cold, a prelude to the big snow that happened soon afterwards. Thankfully it waited till we had made it home before it descended. Travelling on rural Hereford and Shropshire byways under two feet of snow would not have been a good experience.
Hay is a tiny town on the banks of the majestic River Wye, but though small it has a world-wide reputation, both for the number of its second hand book shops and now as the home of a famous annual literary festival to which I have yet to take myself. Anyway, here’s a glimpse of the book shop that started it all, a place where one may spend many many hours. It also has a very excellent cafe and a cinema. So much bliss under one roof.
It was a blue-sky, blustery December morning on Anglesey’s Newborough Beach. And then a big cloud blew over the sun: some brief seaside alchemy before the sun came out again.
Time Square #2 This month Becky wants to see us in the square; images connected with time – spot on, tenuous, devious, or ingenious – any approach is acceptable.
You cannot beat the Menai Strait for magical light shows, and especially in December when there can be perfect days like these. These photos were taken on Anglesey near Beaumaris, looking across to mainland Wales: the first at midday, the second in the early morning from behind the town, and the third at Penmon Point in late afternoon.
For more inspiration please visit Amy and the other Lens-Artists to see their take on magical light.
This photo was taken back in March, an ash tree wood in the grounds of St Bride’s Castle, Pembrokeshire. I was struck by its scissored silhouette, and the small suggestion of light within.
copyright 2018 Tish Farrell
We have spent several Christmases on the island of Ynys Mon, otherwise known by its Viking name of Anglesey, in North Wales. The weather in December always throws up surprises. On our last trip this was one of them – a perfect, windless, cloudless day with warm sunshine. We wandered on the Menai Straits beach, looking out at the Great Orme peninsula at Llandudno across the water. I found myself watching this young man and his little boy, so absorbed in their play, the sun catching winter-white faces. No sound but the call of an oyster catcher.
That day in that place, we felt the universe had just given us a gift.
This month Paula’s pick-a-word challenge gives us the words splash, marine, scenic, feathered and canicular. The seaside photos cover the first four, and I’ve posted them as an antidote to the ongoing hot weather that is melting many of us in the northern hemisphere. They were taken in March on Broadhaven Beach and at St. Bride’s in Pembrokeshire, and I’m relishing the thought of a brisk sea wind on my face and an invigorating paddle in some chilled Welsh waves.
This next photo is my stab at canicular – the state for which I need the antidote – the laid out, inactive, sweltering dog days of July, the grass turning brown before our eyes, sunset heatwaves. Phew!
These photos were taken on Llanddwyn Island, Anglesley, North Wales a couple of Christmases ago. It was a brilliant sunshiny day, but the wind was cruel.
Llanddwyn bound: crossing to the isle of lovers for more about the island that is really a peninsula of Newborough Beach.
The old railway bridge over the Mawddach River at Barmouth, Gwynedd, Wales
And mazy sands all water-wattled
Waylay her at ebb, past Penmaen Pool.
Gerard Manley Hopkins Penmaen Pool – from a poem written for the visitor’s book at the George Hotel 1876
Black & White Sunday: Traces of the Past