Climate, Natural Beauty

Levels!

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In Winter one becomes more aware of levels, height above sea level, contours and isobars, temperature differentials and of things variable, that change ones view of the world.

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Yesterday from the frosty world of the valley bottom we walked up through layers.

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Through the chill mists that form in the valley like a rising sea level.

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We climbed to where the sun skims the top of the hill to fill the opposite side of the valley with colour,

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and makes silhouettes of the sheep on the horizon.  Then we looked back over the hill tops, bathed in winter sunlight.

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Lyrical, Nature Photography

Where does the river start?

 

 

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Today the air is oozing — it is absolutely still — not a single raindrop, nor a whisper of wind, but everything is wet,reflecting the mist.

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Every blade of grass carries a pearl of moisture that swells and drops into the soggy ground.

 

All-day-dew

All-day-dew

Water condenses onto every surface — all day dew…  Dew (the Welsh for God) that seeps through the sloping fields, that runs down ruts and overflows the puddles into ditches and culverts where it gurgles and giggles to the jingling stream.

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The land sings with water — not falling rain, not today, but water that’s a sacrament, a mystery and a power.

Golitha Falls, Cornwall.

Golitha Falls, Cornwall.

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Communication, Disaster, Ecology

Media Miasma

It all started with a sunset –here in the hills it’s the one thing we miss but there it was — harbinger of more weirdness to come.

?????????????????????????????And the media was full of it — southerly winds scooping up all the industrial and vehicular effluent from France and Spain (didn’t think they had much) and funneling it over Eastern England to dump it there with a load of sand from the Sahara and produce the worst air pollution for aeons.

Thank goodness it wasn’t going to affect Wales — so where is the hill?

?????????????????????????????It was there yesterday!

Now you see it

Now you see it

Now you don't

Now you don’t

And there is a slight metropolitan smell — yes, definitely diesel fumes.

If it’s this bad in the West it must be cataclysmic in London.

Panic phone call to daughter in central London where the weather-man’s air quality map is scarlet, we are green.  ‘Pollution?’

‘Yes, pollution — the worst for years — a real pea-souper!’

‘What are you on about,Mum.  No, really Mum, I walked home to Wandsworth and it was a bit misty by the river — that’s all.’  Her husband had been in Canary Wharf — up a skyscraper — hadn’t noticed a thing.

‘Not even the people collapsing with asthma and heart disease?’

‘No Mum.’

That’s odd.

 

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