The Wye, and why? Wye does it exist, how long has it being running, and other existential questions arise just by standing beside it. Sheep have been roaming its bed since they were invented but how it changes is barely perceptible. Nine years ago, when we moved here the predominant channel was beside the far bank and this area was carpeted in grass; did I record it? No! Do I recall it? Yes vaguely in the mists of successive winters.
Since then another channel has opened up and the wandering, limping Ewe is demonstrating it perfectly. The cut through is deeper each year, and eroded more each winter. Ceaselessly, remorselessly, natureatitsmostdetermindlessly it wears away its path to the sea, or at least to the next town; Builth Wells.
Living next to the Wye is a day like any other, or is it?
A confused looking sparrowhawk after a pass at the bird feeder. It was less confused…
Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag) Song by Julie Andrews ‧ 1964 The ewes are…
Our ever reliable Christmas staple, the simple and beautifully trimmed Pyracantha (Firethorn).
For the cooks. Fifteen female pheasants strolled down the track, cool as you like, no…
There’s snow warning like no warning, like no warning we know. Not had one this…