A circuit in the Black Mountains

After a grim period of weather the Met Office served up a compelling weather forecast for a wander onto the hills.

Taking into account the wind direction, likelihood of showers and sunset light, the Black Mountains were chosen and a circuit of Cwm Banw. Nic was enthused enough to accompany me. Ascending through the fields a local farmer was met and a brief chat about the impact of Storm Emma elicited that about 2 feet of snow had fallen and drifted to very impressive depths, all the minor roads were blocked for a few days and it had taken the farmer 15 hours to dig a route to get feed to livestock, a journey that would normally take 5 minutes. To illustrate the severity of the weather event, 2 weeks on there were still snow patches a few feet deep in the sunken holloway on the path up. Reaching the open moorland and sadly the weather changed from blue skies, fluffy white clouds and warm sunshine to more ominous looking clouds, much less blue sky and the donning of winter jackets.

Landforms and patterned vegetation in the Black Mountains

The Black Mountain environs exhibit a curious mixture of landforms from plateau surfaces that suggest relict planation surfaces 10's of millions years old to those attributable with more confidence to repeated glaciations in the pleistocene. Areas of patterned vegetation may be associated with underlying superficial deposits that have been subjected to periglacial processes. Illuminated by more desirable light these would have been more apparent and a mental note was made to revisit at a more optimal time of day and year.

Squall lighting and open moorland

The best lighting occurred on the approach to Pen Allt-mawr where foreground composition was limited to moorland vegetation and a simple demonstration on the why side lighting is preferable for saturated colour.

The approach to Pen Allt-mawr

On reaching the summit of Pen Allt-mawr the squall hit with rain quickly turning to sleet and the novelty of ice coating any exposed clothing. Nic was less than impressed. Still there were grand views to the west until the hill fog obscured everything. I raised the prospect of waiting for the squall to pass and received the look of mutiny from Nic. The planned high level exposed plateau circuit of Cwn Banw walking into wind driven sleet held little appeal and instead we made our way back to the car via a lower, less exposed route. A consultation of the OS map indicated a stream would need to be crossed and that stream would no doubt be swollen. So the return route would keep to a high level and basically contouring, which explains why several relict vegetated periglacial boulder lobes were traversed and on another day these would have presented some photographic foreground interest rather than tiresome obstacles. I feel confident in stating that this particular area is not well visited. Eventually the squall passed, hill fog cleared to make navigation easier and then a brief break in the clouds allowed some sunshine through illuminating the coed cae on the south facing slopes of Cwm Banw and the Sugar Loaf hill in the distance.

A view down Cwm Banw to the Sugar Loaf. 

The stream was easily crossed at a higher elevation whilst lower down the white water suggested very high water flows and probably a more challenging crossing. We made it back to the car just before another squall arrived, a good end to the trip and some locations to be revisited.

The vagaries of upland weather

The last two trips have perfectly illustrated why it's best to adopt a phlegmatic approach to landscape photography. The first one Nic accompanied me to Y Mynyddoedd Duon (Black Mountains) and a walk up onto and along the Ffawyddog ridge. The walking was enjoyable in warm sunshine with a cooling breeze, heather moorland in bloom and natures larder of bilberries were deliciously sweet.

It became apparent the area encompassed by the Ffawyddog ridge, Vale of Ewyas and Hatterall ridge was a magnet for clear skies, whilst trains of photogenic cloud formations rolled in from the NW further east and to the west over the Gaider Fawr ridge.

Photogenic cloud

I have no great enthusiasm for landscape photography with overhead clear blue skies due to their propensity to drain colour from a landscape and whilst black and white photography would rescue some images it holds no interest for me. When I belatedly decided to explore the moorland vegetation with a macro lens, the wind increased in strength and as sunset drew near a visibly long bank of slow moving cloud appeared to the NW that would mask the best light. The last of the sunlight was utilised for an image of photogenic cloud and then the walk back to the car unassisted by head torch light. The lack of any sunlight on distant hills confirmed the early departure was a wise decision.

The second trip had a rather enticing weather forecast of heavy showers and spells of sunshine with the wind from the SW or the distinct possibility of heather moorland illuminated by fleeting light under stormy skies and the chance of a rainbow. Except the cloud never broke up, towards dusk the rain squalls were heavy and persistent. To be fair the wind strength was spot on with winds of 30 mph (Strong breeze/near gale) and gusts to 40 mph (gale force intensity). The weather and exposed location meant I was relieved to have packed the winter jacket, over trousers and gloves.

Calluna vulgaris and Ulex Gallii

Photography ambitions were restricted to leeward ground and then ground level macro photography before rain curtailed this activity. Chatting to a hill walker descending from a nearby summit it seemed that further south, the cloud was breaking up and sunlight breaking through, this kept me enthused until it became apparent with sunset approaching that this trip would also be curtailed. So two successive trips made where the landscape photography rewards would have been very good if the locations chosen were just a couple of miles distant, c'est la vie!

Black Mountains trip report

Bank Holiday weekend and on the Sunday a weather forecast to get enthused about for a late afternoon excursion to the northern escarpment of the Black Mountains. The Black Mountains escarpment is part of the Great Red Edge that runs across the Brecon Beacons National Park, so named due to the underlying Old Red Sandstone bedrock. The Black Mountains have undergone repeated exposure to the action of glacial ice and periglacial processes, yet the plateau areas show little apparent sign of glaciation. Surprisingly, comparatively little research has been published on elucidating the evolution of the Black Mountains landscape. The Black Mountains also held some importance for ancient people, as a number of funerary monuments were built in the adjacent landscape. From some viewpoints on the escarpment a number of Neolithic chambered tombs sited at lower elevations can be viewed and Bronze age cairns also occupy some prominent positions at higher elevations. The reason for the siting of the Neolithic funerary monuments locations remains an enigma.

The plan was to walk along the escarpment, with stops to take in the views and to photograph the expansive views as shower light flitted across the landscape, before looping back over moorland and deciding on where to linger for sunset.
The weather was warm and the ascent made in full sunshine, which made matters unpleasant. When the hill slope eased, unerringly, cloud rolled in and that was the last of the sun for the next couple of hours walking. Stops were made to take in the views from the escarpment, the camera gear was not required. A notable highlight was watching a Kestrel demonstrate its mastery of the wind to quarter the escarpment ridge, at times it hovered a matter of metres away, too close for the binoculars field of view. It was surprisingly warm, even with the absence of sunshine and with a stiff breeze at ~750m ASL, a base layer was sufficient.

A brighter area of sky on the western horizon provided some cause for photographic optimism. However the elevated views were marred by reduced visibility, I guess due to a moisture associated with the low level overhead cloud, whilst lower down below 600m the visibility was good. The air clarity determined where a location for sunset would be and a descent made to an outcrop of bedrock with views.
The nature of the vertical joints/fractures in the bedrock outcrop, appeared to correlate with the orientation of the ridge. It would not be unreasonable to suggest that the geological structure exerted some control on the evolution of the landscape.

The sun did sink into the letterbox of clear sky on the horizon and with overhead cloud, the quality of the resulting light was very good.

Needless to say it was a good trip.

The colour of late summer

A moorland with heather in flower is a fine sight and worth making the effort to wander around and photograph, though a breeze is welcome to keep the midges at bay. On this trip to Y Mynyddoedd Duon, there was thankfully some wind around and the rain showers were light, which combined with a north westerly wind meant visibility was very good.

I would have preferred the views to the north, but the nature of cloud breaks meant only ground to the south received mottled sunlight, one of the vagaries of upland areas affecting cloud formations. Still, the views to the south are not too bad.

The moorland is also being actively managed again, with numerous small areas of burning to clear away 'leggy' heather and encourage new growth. I'm guessing it is habitat management for red grouse and other upland birds, as the scale of burning is nowhere near that of managed grouse moors of shooting estates. The moorland hereabouts still has grasses, bilberry, gorse and fern, which create a richer more varied habitat and pioneer trees are also starting to spread, mostly Rowans, with a few Birch and the odd conifer from nearby plantations.

Towards sunset the wind strengthened, the cloud visibly clearing and breaking up quickly, the prospects for dusk were not promising. Also the way back would be slow going down steep and rough ground under head torch light, it seemed prudent to make the most of natural light to ensure a safe return to the car. I still harbour hopes of one day photographing a heather moor under 'colourful' clouds at dusk.

A short and wet trip on the moor

The forecast was poor even by the standards of recent weather and yet a small glimmer of hope in the Met office forecast for the Brecon Beacons NP, with a possibility of some broken cloud later in the evening and more probably low cloud, hill fog, heavy showers, strong wind gusts that would provide some atmosphere. The wind direction pointed to high ground in the SE for offering any views and the potential for any burst of sunshine, with cloud breaking up over the Usk Valley. The Blorenge was promising, more so with its car park at 500m asl minimising any uphill slog and I could cope with the elements in lieu of ascent, for a wander around the moorland and take in the 'atmosphere'.

Parking up facing into the wind and the forecast was spot on - cloud base/hill fog was below the bonnet and the windscreen indicated heavy, angled, rain. Still if the cloud broke, after a passing rain band there could be an opportunity for a rainbow, so, on with the rain gear and off into the murk on a decent track across the moorland, then off piste onto sheep tracks for a look around.  Disappointing to note the heather was not in full bloom, but the bilberry leaves were taking on some colour, the berries were ripe and very tasty, a welcome distraction from the weather. A couple of hours wandering and waiting between showers and watching the cloud base rise and lift, but never convincingly clear the 600m level so only the flanks of the Black Mountains were visible and only the Sugar loaf summit occasionally visible.



The Usk Valley around Kemeys Commander has a suite of landforms associated with down wasting glacial ice and the views from the Blorenge provided an idea for an image and viewpoint of the landforms and time of year, one for the increasing list of 'must visit in the future'. On the way back to the car, finally the cloud broke briefly to let weak sunlight through and illuminate the moor, fortunate really as there was a combination of low level and a high cloud. A couple of images made at different angles of view and that was the end of the outing.

Snow, yay!

The UK winter of 13/14 was the wettest since records began and snow events were at a premium, so it was with some anticipation with snow falling, that I made plans for a dawn excursion. Snow cover has the ability to reduce the visual complexity of a landscape, by blanketing vegetation and reveal land forms. So, great plans were made, winds were at an acceptable strength for longish exposures and I even allowed an extra 10 mins for clearing the car of snow in the morning. Sadly, the plan slowly unravelled during the journey. The majority of UK drivers seem content to carry on with normal tyres and mitigate the hazards of snow/ice by travelling at crawling speeds until gritted or snow/ice free roads are reached. If conditions get too bad, they simply abandon their car, which really adds to the congestion misery. Whilst slowly crawling along behind a dispiritingly long line of tail lights, I reflected on the aforementioned and that whilst my investment in winter tyres is a sensible move, I really should have set the alarm for 1 hour earlier when snow fell overnight and as the extended travel time, ate into the walk time, Dawn at Great Plan A was scuppered and others too, eventually a trip up to the oh so familiar enivrons of the Black Mountains southern flank was settled on.

Cumulonimbus Incus

The walk up was initially over a dusting of snow, until the Ffridd wall was reached and then the snow depth increased to several inches. Where the 'mountain wall' has been sited in empathy with the upland environs and not with a surveying line, I have noticed the 'mountain wall' often seems to demarcate fairly accurately the zone of snow accumulation.

Onwards and upwards and with views opening up, a band of cloud was present to the south extending across the horizon from the SW to SE, sigh. so no alpen glow or warm red light. It was very much a case of waiting for something to happen towards sunrise. A cumulonimbus incus cloud offered some interest and if the cloud had arrived 30 mins later there would have been some very nice lighting.

Instead there was the opportunity to experiment with the camera white balance (WB) settings, as sometimes manual settings have produced a more pleasing image colour than the camera auto WB. Conventional wisdom says WB can adjusted in RAW post processing, I think it is probably best to get it thereabouts in the field and it is something I'm still experimenting with, a better memory would help too.

A belated sunrise

The effect of snow and low angled light reduces the complexity of a landscape and highlighting landforms was  illustrated by the view across the Usk valley to Craig y Cilau on Mynnyd Llangatwg where the landslide scar/glacial cirque were revealed.

Craig y Cilau and Mynydd Llangatwg plateau

One landform that I'd seen on previous trips was a lobe or debris tongue, with depression and debris ridges. The snow cover highlighted the form and nature, with the intriguing possibility of a rock glacier origin, or alternatively winnowed landslide debris. The south facing aspect of the slope and the gradient are potential settings for ice cored debris flows that form in severely cold climates.

Boulder lobe from a rock glacier or winnowed landslide debris?

Spin drift rising from exposed ground was a visible indicator of the wind strength increasing, sadly my efforts to capture spin drift failed miserably. With cloud sheets approaching from the west and thunder snow forecast it was time to head back to the car, whilst the weather was still good and photograph the Ffridd wall and trees mantled in snow. An enjoyable trip and always a childish pleasure to walk on virgin snow that's not too deep.

Stock pen and Ffridd wall

Field beech and graze line

Why?

The southern slopes of the Black Mountains were visited, again.  Which raises the question - why?  The answer is complex.  This area of the Black Mountains has a suite of landforms which appear to relate to phenomena associated with a very cold climate.  Debris from rock slope failures - possibly paraglacial or seismic in origin - appears extensively modified by periglacial processes. More surprisingly, Table Mountain is also thought to be a landslide, resulting from the down wasting of a valley glacier. Both events are thought to have occurred towards end of the Devensian stadial, but there are also alternative theories, it's an interesting wander and the landform suites possibly relate to a number of climatic events.

There are also the insights along the route, from the impact of farming - Ffridd wall, hedge laying, woodland management and relating the the underlying geology with flora. There is also the intangible pleasure of observing the rich tapestry of nature, viz on this trip; a Red Kite shadowed by two Ravens; a Wren foraging in the block slopes; a Fox crossing a distant field; a field conspicuously littered with Mole hills; Fairy inkcaps in a decaying Oak, berry laden Hawthorns, hill ponies grazing, scat on a prominent boulder - the lichen community reflecting a nutrient rich environment and hinting strongly that this boulder has demarcated an animals territory for a while ...

There's also the benefit of stretching the legs and schlepping the photography kit helps puts some debit in the calorific bank, with the festive season calorific binge looming...

Fairy Inkcaps ~ Leica apo macro elmarit 100/2.8

Leica vario elmar R 21-35mm Asph

Then there's the creative itch to be scratched, making a photograph, especially with the quality of light around the winter solstice, when the sun is at its lowest zenith, with a backdrop of broken cloud, rain showers, sunset and with good fortune, there's real potential for atmosphere. The good fortune is light shining through a break in the cloud illuminating the scene. My fortune on this trip was mixed, well broken cloud on the ascent, the first image captures the last light before a hill spur shadow falls across the boulder lobe. The second image has warm but weak sunlight filtered through cloud, the main sunbeam was slightly higher up the hillside, the cloud was failing to breakup sufficiently over the Brecon Beacon massif to the WSW.

Leica vario elmarit R 28-90 Asph

I thought that was the light gone for this trip, the cloud seemed unbroken to the south west, obscuring the sunset and so made my way back across the block slope, as I wanted to look at possibilities for a dawn scenario. On the way some 'Dog Lichens' (Peltigera membranacea) caught my eye.

Dog Lichens ~ Leica vario elmarit R 28-90 Asph

Sunset was a non event, but the cloud was breaking up to the south and dusk provided a display of red/magenta lighting reflected from and diffused by the clouds, a welcome and unexpected bonus. The wind eased too, which was helpful as exposure times were in the order of 4 to 8 seconds duration in the gloaming light.

 Leica vario elmarit R 28-90 Asph 

 Leica vario elmarit R 28-90 Asph 

The opportunity doesn't arise that often, but it is interesting to make images in the colours of dusk, the human eye doesn't pick up the colours as well as the camera sensor and for this trip it was definitely worth waiting around for.

Showing willing

Two successive trips, both to the same location and both with a forecast of broken cloud and sunshine.

1st trip
The clouds indeed were breaking up, there just wasn't enough cloud and the sky was probably 95% cloud free, which offers the prospect of distinctly uninspiring cool blue shadows and cyan sky.

The cloud breaking up

It's fair to say my inspiration level dimmed a bit and I abandoned the big view for what was on offer on the ground, amongst the boulder lobes.

Lichen community

2nd trip
Was a sky of unbroken cloud, but with blue skies to the West, there was a tantalising prospect of the cloud breaking up or clearing,  towards sunset.  The diffuse light was more suited to studies of the ecology of the upland environ and the Ffridd wall provided some inspiration.

Ophioparma ventosa

Parmelia saxatilis with lichenous fungi

Moss and lichen community

Moving on up onto the open hillside, above the bracken line and into grassland, heavily grazed by hill ponies and sheep, but crucially never improved with fertiliser or ploughed, the ancient nutrient poor soils are a haven for fungi. Surveys of Welsh uplands reveal its international importance for many species of grassland fungi and it's known by ecologists as 'Waxcap grassland'.

Scarlet Waxcaps

Orange Waxcaps

A wander around some impressive landslide debris and then it was time to commence the vigil for sunset and a view across the hillside, over landslide debris (paraglacial), soliflucted boulder lobes and till (periglacial) to the southern outliers of the Black Mountains. By the time the cloud cleared, the sun had already set ... IF the cloud had cleared 20 mins earlier, the foreground would have been awash with the last light of sunset, the retreating cloud sheet would have turned magenta ... on such small margins, sigh.

Blue Hour

The cloud at least presented an opportunity for a 'blue hour' image and then it was on with the head torch and a journey down to the car. A landscape photographer certainly needs a philosophical outlook on weather and observing/photographing the ecology helps to make a trip worthwhile when the weather doesn't play ball.