Winter landscape in our valley

We had a real frost this morning and it has only just warmed up sufficiently for me to think of having a wander up the hill behind the house.  The photos actually show the walk in reverse, but hey-ho, I am sure you will get the general idea.

This is Black Mountain (Bannau Sir Gar on maps) glimpsed through branches on a field edge which has recently been established.  There was a small corner of copse, above the road, which has been removed and an approach to a field put in.  It gives a great view up and across the valley.

The view directly across of the farm next to us and you can just see a corner of our old farmhouse (looking creamy yellow) in front of the farm buildings.

The pond in the top field - stocked with fish and a great place for wildlife.

As you can see, there was a lot of river mist up along our valley today - only just starting to clear now that the sun is dissipating it.

I went along the farm track aa short way to get these photos.  The sheep looked glad to be thawing out . . .

Black Mountain above the mist.

I chose not to go on up the really steep bit of the hill.

Atmospheric - trees (and lone sheep) silhouetted against the skyline.

The big old  tree which is on the edge of our land.  A big branch has broken off (it is a dieing tree) but got snagged higher up so no fire wood from that until it falls.

View across the valley from our field.

The first bend away from the house, where I regularly see a gang of Long Tailed Tits.

Trees against the winter sky.

View from the kitchen window - what I didn't capture was all the raindrops on the twigs.

Sorry for so few words but I have slept badly this week and am feeling a tad jaded.  We have a busy weekend ahead, and I wanted to get a post up whilst I could.

A short walk

As it is so mild out again, I decided I would do a short walk to blow some of the cobwebs away and burn a couple of calories, having been stapled to the sofa all week. I took the car to the bottom of the hill, as I knew I wouldn't be able to struggle back up it at the moment, as my peak flow reading is still down (though improving).

It was a . . . mindful . . . walk. I was able to clear my mind of all my worries, and just really LOOK, noticing a sodden Celendine, and then one which had just burst into flower, and plenty of Celendine leaves pushing through now. Fresh grass on the banks, leaves of wild Strawberries and Ground Ivy, and in the wet Alder-carr woodland, whole rafts of Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage. The birds were singing - Robins and Great Tits mostly, whilst a Wren flew across the lane at ankle height, and I saw Blackbird after Blackbird in the trees beside the lane. A Jay's raucous call sounded from the Hazel copse, and I watched a Buzzard hunting for worms in one of the pasture fields which normally has sheep in. The deep red walls of Goitre farmstead were even darker after the rain and the house stood out against the winter-bleached fields around it.

Sheep grazed just below the Gorse coverts which surround the lips of the Iron Age hillfort and I watched a solitary Red Kite languidly riding a thermal. The emerald moss on the grey stone bridge was sporting a beard of scarlet and russet which held droplets of moisture, such an intense concentration of colour. The wheelrut of a tractor had turned into a mini-lake as a leaf-filled ditch, no longer maintained by the farm, seeped into it.

What we miss when we don't LOOK . . .