Seasonal Weather Unwelcome

We awoke this morning to an all-over whiteness everywhere, snow lay like a lovely, smooth velvet, that draped itself over our rural scene. 

Mrs H fed the birds who hopped here there and everywhere so the white mantle became pock-marked by their little feet or claws,alas !

We took photos, mine from indoors with the window wide open and then quickly closed again, as I enjoy fresh air but at a temperature that is above freezing. Mrs H, not hardier, just younger and more full of vigour, braved the outdoors. 

Well, we hope that you enjoy our photos.

Below is the worst winter that I have ever experienced, the Winter of 1963 when I was a youth working in the Teignmouth shipyard [Devon, England]; when the sea froze and there were large snowdrifts on the beach that the tide took simply ages to melt away and on Dartmoor fires were lit under lorries to thaw out the diesel which had waxed up.

Domestic Bliss

Midnight - Cats asleep © Llwyd 2015

The ginger female cat called Squeaky is 9yrs old and our black cat, Magic,

 is twelve years of age. The photo is slightly out of focus because 

I wasn’t wearing my spectacles.

I think it is time for a change of topic, as you all must be getting fairly bored with the ever tiresome politics of our world.


Snow is falling fast, to melt as soon as it touches the ground, small birds are at the feeders pecking at peanuts and a dozen others including robins, are on the path all stoking up on cous- cous.
Ms H was telling me this morning that in the back garden we now have
an almost resident hen pheasant who feeds there regularly along with a friendly thrush and jovial blackbirds.


In the field opposite, the ever wise yearlings/store cattle have taken temporary shelter under hedge and as soon as the storm abates they will return to strip grazing the pasture.


Inside: our forty year old Stanley cooker fuelled by Bord na Mona brickettes is giving out lots of heat and the Caframo fan is spinning madly away sending waves of hot air all around the room. 
Nevertheless I have on my old Malin-Head fleece sitting on top of an equally old denim shirt. I do appreciate the gentle warmth of 20C in the centuries old kitchen which is now our sitting room. 

Time now to put the kettle on for a pot of tea for two, why not step inside and join us? Don’t forget to bring biscuits.

Snow and Ice

Old stone house, you stand as a sentinel small and warm, shielding ghosts of the future and, sheltering those from earlier times. Oft I do wonder what your walls, floors have recorded before and since electrification, the age of light and the age of dark. You hold your secrets close, as close as the faery tree that appears to be a post in one corner - that is to the uninitiated!

Ice Maiden your beauty gleamed as diadems on stems in crisp hedgerows, elsewhere on river bank from rock and frond, you are seen as dainty crystals, diamonds, contrasting with shadow to dance, glow and seduce a photographer to capture your shining beauty.

I am not sorry to see that a thaw has started. For cabin fever was almost upon us, restricted as we were by ice-snow compacted roads - that are now changing to deep dying dirty slush, that squelch, splash in spasms under tyres.

Enough, enough Snow Spirit you have had your fun and made your presence felt

and now thank goodness you will soon melt !