MISTY EYED

 And by "Misty eyed" I mean not just me, but the camera's eye also got misted over. After a particularly noisy, wind battered night, which kept us awake, we were lucky to finally arise to calmer skies, whilst outside the night's work was clear to see,

though at times vision was occluded with a heavy, low hung, very damp fogginess.

But, as the 

wind blew the blanket of gloom away, things started to brighten and dry enough for the results of the nights work to be seen more clearly. Water running off the fields, through gates and down the mountain road. Even the farmers had been taking a break from the conditions ... with tractors at a stand still and few people to be seen as we parked up for a very brief excursion. 

But then there was a brief window of opportunity as sunlight filtered through the blanket of gloom, highlighting the damage of the night.

The wind had blown beech tree branches and twigs everywhere. Stones on the road were travelling down hill in the runnels of water and masses of Sitka cones, branch tips and and new buds were strewn all across the road and verges, and in this case been quite artistically arranged, reminding me of one of our national emblems. A bit like a tea bag, we had started out dry, got soaking wet and were starting to dry out again. Then just to add to the Welsh wetness, I spotted this lone flower, another national emblem. As I was taking the photo ... a small yellow dung fly crawled out of it's shelter from the rain. (Scathophaga strecoraria) what a long Latin name for such a minuscule but not so insignificant critter.

But ... without such tiny creatures as these ... well ... we'd be up to our knees in dung!