Boxing Day & Spiritual Refreshment

A Boxing Day walk, alone, in the weather and the howling winds. Amazing, elemental, the antithesis to Christmas, natural, wild, empty, unpackaged. The car park was surprisingly busy but apart from a dog walking couple who rapidly disappeared into the rain drenched dunes, I saw no one. I almost gave up right there and then as it was so dismal and wet, but I so needed fresh air, on this second of two days off over Christmas. The gallery has seen me trapped six days a week for the last month or so, and I've been badly missing my outdoor escape, aka sanity.

"An Exposed Sanctuary" © Glyn Davies 2011 - Buy a print of this image HERE

Spindly, stunted silver Birches adorned the dune landscape, natural Christmas trees sparkling in the half light. I planned on just studying these beauties but the draw of the sea was strong, and I soon found myself in the middle of a semi-drowned estuary, acres of 4" deep water all about me, and hard to tell where the deeper channels lay as the howling winds roughened the water's surface. Three times I stood huddling behind my huge (braced) umbrella for shelter, whilst squalls lashed the black dome of nylon and winds flapped the edges like the sound of a machine gun. So noisy was the wind that it was hard to tell when the rain had stopped!

"Rainstorm over the Estuary" © Glyn Davies 2011 - Buy a print of this image HERE

I headed for the dunes, crossing a wide band of deep sticky and slippery black mud, skinned with a sinewy green layer of weed, and then the sand blasting started! Plumes of swirling sand were being blown back inland from the highest dunes and it was in my eyes and all over my camera. Thank God it's a hermetically sealed 1DS system and not one of these new lightweight non sealed units. As I crested the dunes my view was of a choppy wind-churned sea, curtains of rain sweeping across the Llyn Peninsula and a stormy looking horizon, but punching through the darkness were large holes of what could 'almost' be described as sunshine, just enough to lighten the foreground for a few brief moments. The estuary behind me seemed to be fading to darkness very quickly, and I knew that once the beams of sunlight were clouded by the advancing rain, that I would lost all light for my return journey.

"The Horse & The Mermaid" © Glyn Davies 2011 - Buy a print of this image HERE

It was strange walking back across the estuary, which was now just a shimmer of water all about me in the early night. I felt the landscape was ready to absorb me, to suck me literally into it's depths. I felt slightly disorientated even though I knew the general direction, and I felt very alone and insignificant in the universe, but it was all rather beautiful and humbling. I could hardly discern the start of the footpath back across the next dune-scape and impossibly quickly it was dark. My night vision was the only think guiding me back and I found myself frequently tripping over rabbit holes and clumps of grass. I know some people get a bit freaked by woodlands at night but I felt very at one with this vegetated,  copse covered landscape, even in the darkness. I loved the fact that no one else was there, it was my landscape once again, precious ! :-) I did enjoy a thirst quenching couple of cold  beers back in the warmth of the house that evening though :-)

All words and images are strictly copyright © Glyn Davies 2011 - All rights reserved
Glyn's landscapes are all available as 200 year archival prints on his website at www.glyndavies.com

Christmas Day 2011

This was one of those unusual Christmas days, when Carol and I have the day to ourselves, so instead of pigging out on Christmas dinners and excesses of booze, we did a two hour cliff-walk on North Anglesey, in gale force winds blowing straight off the Irish Sea, and doused in sea spray sweeping over the headlands. Such a change from last Christmas, with it's freezing temperatures and thick white snow. I should have known the moment I bought my snow chains for the new van, that we would consequently see no snow at all!

"The Cauldron" Anglesey © Glyn Davies2011 - Buy this image HERE

The day was so dark and dreary, and the skies looked unforgiving, but there was a air of melancholy in the house that morning, and we both needed air. It never ceases to amaze me how simply getting one's boots and kit ready nurtures positive energy from the two of us, and as made sandwiches and Carol made flasks the feeling was like a Christmas present itself. The wind buffeted the van hard as we reached the Four Crosses road and I took the decision to head for the West Coast where I thought the seas would be most impressive. As we cut through the wind along the A55 all about us was darkness and occasional drizzle but in the distance, there was just a 'hint' of something brighter. We SO made the right decision as by the time we reached Trearddur Bay swathes of blue and rays of sunshine were breaking through the thick blanket of cloud.

"We Kayaked Here" Anglesey  © Glyn Davies 2011 - Buy this image HERE

The sea was not quite as rough as I'd imagined for the strength of the wind, which seemed to have been blowing for days, but was nevertheless sending waves and spray flying up the cliff faces. Against the wind the progress was tough, especially as Carol hadn't been well all week and I haven't been walking in the hills for many weeks now, feeling particularly unfit, but the fresh air, the spectacular seas and the brilliant sunshine were incentive enough. We found a partly sheltered cove amongst the rocky headlands, and descended steeply to a tiny pebbly beach, on which to eat our cheese sarnies and mince pies, washed down with hot coffee. Energy came flooding back to me, and we sat and watched the large swell of waves attempt to break through the narrow entrance to the beach. I wanted to run into the sea in my birthday suit but the ominous looking squall moving closer, along with my Mrs, persuaded me not to !

We decided against the hour or so trek back along the windblown cliffs and instead used some tiny country lanes to make the route a circuit, marvelling at things which even in the once-again-dull light we'd never notice when driving. Amazingly the rain held off for the whole walk which was fortunate but at least we'd seen some brilliance, whilst others stuffed turkey and it felt so good to have simply be alone and different, well relatively ! On Boxing Day whilst others were out walking, we were of course at home stuffing Turkey for our Christmas Day :-))

All words and images are strictly copyright © Glyn Davies 2011 - All rights reserved
Glyn's landscapes are all available as 200 year archival prints on his website at www.glyndavies.com