There’s Slate in Them There Hills

This is the eighth blog from my time in North Wales, dating from the 14 July 2013.

Blaenau Ffestiniog is famous for its slate mining and was once know as the Slate Capital of Wales, following the discovery of a rich slate deposit in the 18th century, with the surrounding hills littered with the signs that this industry has left. Whole hillsides have been cut away by modern mining activities, leaving sharp, shiny cliff faces, as bright new scares on an ancient landscape, and have seen the removal of hilltops forever. Many more slopes are covered in waste from centuries of mining activities. Made up of irregular shaped pieces of rock, just thrown away as waste from the process of extracting slate from the surrounding hills.

A Modern Slate Quarry – 14 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The landscape around Blaenau Ffestiniog is industrial, but set against the harsh backdrop of the Snowdonia mountains it has a kind of stark, rugged beauty. The rocky remains form an intricate jigsaw across the hillsides, larger pieces knitted together with smaller ones, with an infinite number of shapes and angles formed, never seeming to be repeated across any of the hillsides. Then to add an artistic touch, there are the remains of the historic workings zigzagging across the hillside, as though the miners of the past were adding their own signatures to the landscape we see today.

Slate Waste Across the Blaenau Ffestiniog Hillside – 14 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The slopes seem stark and bare at first glance, devoid of life, but nature does not leave them alone for long. Beginning as the odd small spot here and there; that are formed by ferns, turfs of grass and spikes of Foxgloves. Anything that can get a foot hold, which slowly develops to a regular covering of bushes. All of which begin to blur the harsh outlines and will in time reclaim the picture to wooded hillside. Maybe not a natural scene as many of the species presently colonising seem to be non-native, including Rhododendron and Buddleja, but then neither was the starting point. Not only are the scares of mining being hidden under new growth, so to are the remains of the equipment and vehicles that have been left behind when no longer required. As always nature will find a way.

Abandoned Vehicle – 14 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Surprises Amongst the Bracken

This is the seventh blog from my time in North Wales, dating from the 13 July 2013.

Wandering around the lanes on Anglesey, found us travelling down what seemed to be a normal open country lane that would lead us out onto the Penmon Peninsular. Now in general from a first view this seemed nothing out of the usual, a dense cover of Bracken was broken up by a scattering of Hawthorns. As I said nought out of the usual, but then out above the Bracken there stands this tall stately Teasel. In the Scottish Borders, Teasel is a species which is found on open grassy road verges, and is an unusual sight. Later investigation has discovered that Teasels are not uncommonly associated with rough grasslands and woodland edges, so why not a Bracken edged road verge, that produces many of the conditions of a woodland edge, openness followed by later shade.

Teasel – 13 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Teasels are fascinating plants, tall prickly affairs with opposite leaves that form a cup-like structure against the stem that catches rainwater. Its this basin from which the Roman name for Teasel comes from – lavacrum veneris meaning Venus’ lips or basin. Above is a flower head that from a distance can seem like an oversized cotton-bud, but on closer examination it is made up of many straight spines, much like a pin cushion, across which passes a tide of lilac flowers. These flowers begin by opening in the centre of the inflorescence and seem to spread up and down, like a parting of the waves in the Red Sea.

The Pin Cushion of a Teasel Inflorescence – 13 July 2013 (Copyright Ross Lockley)

Just as I was about to wander on, a flash of bright pink caught my eye, it was a plant scrambling up through the Bracken. On closer examination and consultation with various books, revealed this pink to come from the bright flowers of the Broad-leaved Everlasting Pea. This plant was using the Bracken fronds as a convenient climbing frame. I love the flowers, they were an amazing rich vibrant pink, but also marked with delicate pink veins, such wonderful contrast that stands out against the background lattice of green Bracken fronds, through which this single plant scrambles, pulling itself up towards the light.

Bright Splash of Broad-leaved Everlasting Pea Flowers – 13 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Shifting Sands

This is the sixth blog from my time in North Wales, dating from the 12 July 2013.

Standing on the main road looking down across a disused airfield towards Morfa Dyffryn National Nature Reserve, is enough to take your breath away. Morfa Dyffryn is dominated by an active dune system and even from a distance of over half a mile, the sheer size of the dunes give them a distinctive presence. They are very much alive, shifting with every breath of wind, even if its just a few grains of sand at a time, like a sleeping giant slumbering, waiting for Jack to disturb him.

Morfa Dyffryn – 12 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Down at dune level the sense of size is lost, for the views are all of short distances and there are no massive heights to be seen or distant views to be had, but still the sense of the dune being a living creature comes across, as the sand shifts and moves in even the slightest breeze. This living thing grades backwards from an embryo on the sea front, growing to its greatest height and then subsiding eventually into the surrounding fields.

Within the Dunes at Morfa Dyffryn – 12 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The back edge of the dune system is protected from the outside world by clumps of the viciously prickly Sharp Rush that has formed a protective barrier along the landward side of the dune system where the sand has just about consolidated into land. Sharp Rush is one vicious plant, forming huge dense tussocks of shiny dark green leaves, a metre or more in height, which are each pointed with a deadly sharp spike; sharp enough to pierce the skin. Inside the moving sand is stabilised by clumps of Marram Grass, amongst which spread and creep bright yellow carpets of Common Birds-foot-trefoil that contrast with the clumps of the pale pink flowers of Common Century, forming as it were a pattern on the skin of the sleeping beast.

Ripples in the Sand

This is the fifth blog from the my holiday in North Wales, dating from the 11 July 2013.

Standing looking out looking over Afon Mawddach in the early in the evening, with the tide out and the sun dropping lower in the sky, the view out over the estuary was totally amazing. The sun was just low enough to show up every undulation on the mud flats in front of us. Wow! What a sight, as the water had ebbed out of the estuary it had left the most fascinating patterns in the sand, and with the light low in the sky, the ripples showed up so clearly, with every minute detail clearly defined.

Afon Mawddach Estuary – 11 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

I’ve always been fascinated by the ripple patterns in the sand, wondering how the retreating water manages to drop particles in such precise patterns, and in this case, with patterns within patterns. Its as though an army of elves have been out arranging the sand in precise patterns, a particle here, a particle there. Smoothing out the rough and unformed, adding hummocks and hollows to order. I’ve also wonder what chance there is that these patterns last longer than the length that the tide is out. Will these be the ones that the geologists see in many millions of years when they examine the rocks formed under this estuary or will they just be here today and gone when the next wave passes over? Questions that will never be truly answered, though I suspect the patterns of tomorrow will look totally different. So those foot prints I left in the sand the day before, will have long since been been lost to the waves? But maybe, just maybe….

Ripples in the Sand – 11 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Dunes Delights

This is the fourth blog from the my holiday in North Wales, dating from the 10 July 2013.

Wandering the dunes behind Harlech, with the sun beating down and the sand rapidly soaking up this heat to re-radiate it back as we pass, it was almost possible to think that we were on the edge of somewhere like the Sahara. It was hot, very hot, but unlike the Sahara where it is mainly sand, here the place is vegetated, with a good covering of Marram Grass, which spreads along way back from the beach, and waves almost continuously in the gentle breeze. The Marram Grass produces a grey green background, against which a mass of colour brings the place alive. This mass of colour is like a canvas, where the artist has taken a number of colours and thrown them higgledy piggledy across the place but some how the picture doesn’t jar or jump out at you, it all seems to wash together into a neat harmonious picture.

Harlech Dunes – 14 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The mass is amazing but some of the details catch the eye, like the patches of bright pink Pyramidal Orchids that grow almost like triangular lolly pops against the grey green background. Or the prickly grey green of the Sea Holly with their distinctive Holly-like leaves and their round balls of florets ripening in the sun, preparing soon to spring open and reveal their deep mauve petals hidden inside. But what catches my eye, are the tall stalks of Evening Primrose, with their pale canary yellow flowers that stand proud like sentinels watch towers amongst the stalks of Marram Grass.

The Sentinels Stand Proud – 10 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Sentinel straight they stand, rugged below and securely anchored in the ever moving sand, but above the delicate flowers of the Evening Primroses burst forth. They appear from sturdy, almost Okra shaped buds, to form delicate, yellow petals, that traditionally first open as the sun drops in the evening and remain for just a few days before they dry and wither away to nothing more than crinkled brown tissue paper. Delight to the eye for just a moment, before soon lost to nothing more than a memory.

Evening Primroses – 10 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)