And this morning the sun is shining on the Dyfi Estuary and on the Dyfi Osprey Project. You can watch life in the nest live at this link:
Monday morning on the Dyfi Estuary and we woke to rain and lowering skies. Time to go home.
We’d just had a very good three days in Aberdyfi, in a flat overlooking the RNLI Lifeboat Station and the beach. More amazingly, given that we were in Wales and that the British Isles were/ and are continuing in rain-between-showers mode, we hardly got wet at all. We wandered on the beach that goes for miles, explored the narrow streets and paths of the old slate trading port, scrambled inland beside the River Dyfi, ate some very excellent fish and chips (in the car to avoid being mobbed by seagulls), and visited next-door Tywyn to watch steam trains at the Talyllyn Railway. (We Farrells know how to enjoy ourselves). There were even intervals of blue sky and sunshine.
But there was still one thing left to do. It involved a short deviation from our route home, and all weekend, as I’d been clutching the Cors Dyfi Nature Reserve leaflet, I’d been wondering if our weather luck would hold.
And it did. By the time we’d packed up, the rain had stopped. Next stop the Dyfi osprey family.
And that’s pretty much all I’m going to say for now. But we warned – live-stream watching can be addictive. There are three chicks in the nest, with both parents coming and going. When you click on this, YouTube will tell you the service is not available. Click on the Dyfi Osprey Project ‘Live’ window underneath the message. And if that doesn’t work, here’s a link on the Montgomeryshire Wildlife Trust site: http://www.dyfiospreyproject.com/live-streaming
Also if you want to see some wonderful photos of an American osprey family, pop over to Tiny Lessons Blog.
This week Cee says we can choose our own topic. I don’t think I’ve posted this view of Marloes Sands before, but if I have then its worth a second look with its dreamscape rock formations. It was shot in monochrome.
Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge Open Topic
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.