Visitors enjoying Sunday in Snowdonia

Having survived their mountain walk in the wind, sleet and rain, visitors Sam and Lou were keen to explore more of North Wales. So we started with a walk south, along the beach at Llandanwg. The further we walked, the more it sounded like Brands Hatch or Silverstone and I recalled reading something about Llanbedr Airfield getting permission to test out F1 cars – but I think the intrusive noise was the local car rally club whose event was starting and finishing at the airfield. It’s incredible to think that this airfield is one of the five candidates for Britain’s first spaceport – with three of the candidate sites in Scotland, the choice of Llanbedr must be quite a possibility, even though it’s in a national park.

Driving into Harlech I explained that this was one of the best views in Wales, with miles of pristine wave-washed sand, and the peaks of northern Snowdonia in the background. They took my word for it and after choosing bags of sweets at the corner shop we went into Harlech Castle. The new bridge and visitor reception are due to complete at the end of June; delayed by the discovery of old bones which are now in Cardiff to be dated. One of the staff suggested they would probably date back to the 1400s. Once the new bridge is opened it will make quite a spectacular entry, very accessible to everyone. However, I could not help but think the dark spiral staircases in the towers were an accident waiting to happen.

From here we drove to Plas Tan y Bwlch for excellent tea / coffee and cakes at the (relatively new) café on the terrace, overlooking the vale. I can highly recommend it. Jars of honey collected from the hives at The Plas, managed by the Meirionnydd Beekeepers, were on sale. I also learnt that you can book a 2 course Sunday lunch (£12) which is served in the Oakley’s dining room – what a fantastic setting. We will give it a go next time I’m on cooking duty, maybe combine lunch with a walk and a train via Plas Halt.

The whistle stop tour included a brief stop in the muddy layby to see the Wooden Boulder by David Nash. The tide was in so only a small chunk was visible above the water.

Then it was off to Pont Croesor to catch up with the Osprey Saga. The story so far is that Mrs Glaslyn returned mid-March, but her lifelong mate failed to arrive and is presumed dead. She was wooed by Jimmy, a 3 year old toy-boy from Dumfries, but Jimmy was ousted by Blue 80, Mrs Glaslyn’s son from 2012. Blue 80 mated with his mum, and those in the know said that in-breeding was not a problem for ospreys. The next I knew was that Jimmy was back in favour.

When we arrived we learnt that both Jimmy and Blue 80 were no longer on the scene and that to date Mrs Glaslyn had laid four eggs, only one of which was still in the nest, and she was having nothing to do with it. Maybe none of the eggs had been fertilised?

The young males had been replaced by an un-ringed male who so far seems to be ticking all the boxes as a prospective suitor. It might be too late for a successful mating this year but the seeds may be sown for a successful bonding ready for next summer. If you want to keep up to date with the story there are daily reports with video footage on Facebook.

May Day in my Mind

How I imagined it

May Day weekend was cool, damp and grey. With first time visitors Sam and Lou, I felt obliged to organise some mountain walking and they felt equally obliged to humour me. Sue dropped us in the rain at Croesor and we walked all of 50 yards to Caffi Croesor, which I thought was closed, BUT NO, it’s very much open again. Wednesday to Sunday 10:30 to 17:30.

http://orielcafficroesor.cymru/ or phone 01766 771433.

Finn and Lizzie were busy baking bread and preparing for the day’s customers; Caffi Croesor looks better than ever and it was tempting to abandon the walk.

Half way up to Rhosydd we were into slushy sleet either side of the path, not slippery, just wet and cold. As for the path, it was an impromptu stream in need of drainage channels to stop it washing away. We didn’t dwell long at the top and dropped down into Cwmorthin; isolated fingers in wet gloves with strong wind OUCH! Much warmer without gloves and with my fingers taking turns in my mouth.

The reality

The next part of the plan was to catch the up train from Tanygrisiau which we could see at the far end of the lake, its plumes of white smoke rising high in the wind, as we munched our sarnies. A special down train rolled silently into the station and came to a halt on the platform behind. And then it was our Fairlie, pulling the ten or so carriages, with its female guard, who had jumped out, walking alongside the slow moving train. As she approached, and we signalled that we wanted to get on, it was clear that the driver would not be stopping. As she hurriedly hopped back on she gave a sincere sorry.

Fortunately the down train was happy to put us into a cosy 1^st class carriage and drop us at Campbell’s for hot drinks in front of a cheery fire.

Goats looking wonderful

I knew the goats were in the reserve, just below the house; Sue had seen them as she drove down the hill. I picked up a camera and collected a tripod from my car, then decided not to walk; I’d be less threatening inside a vehicle.

As predicted, they pretty much ignored me, and for about half an hour I watched and filmed as they worked their way towards the waterfall at the top hairpin. All seven of the family were present which was good to see. I’d not seen the young kids and their mum for a couple of weeks.

The aunt gave a good demonstration of climbing trees and sucking young leaves off branches. At one stage the mum demonstrated to the kids how to scratch yourself on the side of a rock; the kids haven’t quite got the hands of it yet!

Pied Flycatchers and Redstarts are back in force arranging their nests. So far no-one is making a nest where the Redstarts were last year, just above the front door. This film clip shows the parents delivering the food and the male removing the fecal sac.

It's a lamb's life

After the long dry spell, our farmer neighbour was well pleased with the rain as the grass had stopped growing.  When that happens he has to put out bales of silage, which the sheep reluctantly eat until the grass starts growing again. Once fresh grass is on the menu, then they turn up their noses at the old silage which has to be removed from the fields. Food waste!

Dol Moch Lamb

Along with the rain came a cold snap, with icy arctic winds and ground frost; not the best time of year to be a newly born baby lamb. The lamb from Dol Moch Farm looked especially fragile.

But this morning’s pitiful bleating, as I closed the gate at the bottom of the drive, came from a tiny lamb, thigh deep on the far side of the river. I walked over the bridge, along the bank and clambered down the steep bank. With one arm secured around a branch, jacket pocket zipped in case my phone fell in, I stretched as far as possible but could not quite reach the scruff of its neck. The scruff has lots of loose skin with which to lift a baby lamb. Instead, the best I could do was the scruff of the back on which there was nothing to get hold of. But my touch was so frightening that the lamb jumped into the water and thence quickly out onto land and scampered up the bank, bleating for its breakfast. Fortunately there was lots of sunshine to warm it up.

Small Copper on the Forget-Me-Nots

Small copper

At long last the garden got a soaking yesterday and today it was brilliant sunshine but cool; perfect for a bit of hard graft digging out a 10 year old compost pile. It’s several feet deep with extensive nettles and their yellow roots, so satisfying to pull out. Also deep in the mix are bracken rhizomes, bursting with energy. Both nettle roots and bracken rhizomes are drying out on top of the wall.

Mixed in with the weeds and soil was the odd bit of rotted carpet that I had put down to inhibit the weeds. For some reason I thought it would be biodegradeable, but it’s not, certainly not in my lifetime. I’ve got a black bin liner full of the various strands.

Sadly I have destroyed a couple of vole homes, globes of dry vegetation beneath the soil. A small toad looked indignant as I relocated it a couple of yards away. But star of the show was the butterfly flitting on the profusion of forget-me-nots. If I’ve read my guide correctly I think it’s a Small copper.

False Puff Balls are early this year!

Bluebells and bracken are much earlier this year and so too are the false puff balls. These are slime moulds which climb up a tree trunk to get a better vantage point from which to spore. They look a bit like half a white tennis ball. The earliest I’ve seen them is 29^th April but more often it is in May – I first noticed this year’s crop on 24^th April and they were already past their peak.

In previous years there have been two puff balls on a single tree, by the Railway Inspectors Cottage in Coed y Bleiddiau. This year there are two trees, each with a pair of puff balls and a couple of minutes’ walk away there is a fifth false puff ball which is conveniently at eye level. 

Bilberry fruits also seem to be well advanced. Normally in July and August there are lots of berries on the far side of the stream but barely any on the near side, the side nearest Campbell’s Cottage. But today there were masses of unripe berries on our side. Are there some creatures that eat the berries on just one side of the stream? Could it be the badgers? Maybe they see the stream as the border of their territory?

Billy the Kid

Watching wild goats can be a bit obsessive and part of the gang was chilling out at the edge of the reserve by the top of our garden. A couple were in the shade beneath the trees but Billy the Kid (born February 2014) was in the sunshine with his aunt.  He just couldn’t settle down. Will they be mating this autumn? I also love the birdsong with the cuckoo that arrived a couple of days ago.

22^nd April saw the arrival of our first swallow swooping round the vegetable garden.