It was Easter Monday, mid-afternoon, and a last minute decision to go up Moelwyn Bach. Living here makes it easy to be inspired into spur of the moment mountain walks. Rucksacks packed, and with Molly’s frisbee, we set off on our little adventure.
|It's a dog's life|
Sheep were enjoying the fine weather and oodles of space – so far just a few have been released up the mountain, last year’s lambs, that haven’t been tupped, and those that the farmer knows to be barren. But shepherding is not a precise subject, and there was a tiny lamb, probably born less than 24 hours ago. I hope it will be OK.
Pinkish fruits were forming on the bilberries and new shoots of bracken were still underground.
|People lived, and worked, up here!|
We stopped briefly at the cairn beside the lake then steeply up a craggy gully until we popped out just above the old quarrymens’ barracks. Whenever I see the barracks I think back to the time that we camped in the middle room and cooked our ‘Blazing Saddles’ supper in the makeshift kitchen next door. On that father son occasion we watched the sun set over Cardigan Bay before lying on a slab of rock to watch the incoming Perseids meteorite shower.
Towards the top, one of the several ponds was teeming with tadpoles which were swimming vigorously, presumably to keep warm. These tadpoles must be a month or more behind those in our garden ponds, but they looked big and healthy.
|Selfie on top of the world|
At the summit it was windy and we paused for the customary, 10-second timed photo. Molly needed persuading to stay still.
On the way up I’d asked lots of short questions, to which Haydn had to give long answers, but now we were on the downhill, I didn’t feel constrained to save my breath and talked freely.
How many times have we walked this mountain? Different rocks, formations and mini waterfalls, all brought back memories of previous walks.
Happy days - we’re going to miss this place.