4 spring woodlands

May 2016, thus far, has turned out to be a vintage one for photography in my local woods : the weather has contributed with low wind and rain to bring out the colours. Locations ground-truthed back in the winter have provided some photographic reward and also some old haunts revisited.

Starting with a rewarding trip to a by now familiar scowles woodland for dawn, as the sun rose into a strip of clear sky on the horizon with rainclouds covering the remaining 99% of the sky, the resulting light was good, but all too brief.

With sunrise over, I headed onto another woodland where wildflowers in some parts of the wood pick out the underlying geology and also archaeology, the better drained soil of mineral spoil from bell pits and anomalous earthworks form a preferential habitat for bluebells and wood anemones.  This particular wood is planted semi natural ancient woodland and deserving of a future post of its own, as there is a complex interaction of ground flora with underlying sandstones and limestones, past management and mineral workings.

Bluebells pick out a bell pit in beech and ash woodland

Making a photograph of ground flora corresponding to underlying geology and archaeology is challenging, happily there are also the are views of spring woodland. The primary colours of green and blue, I find visually appealing, especially when saplings and suckers add to the field layer and break up the tree trunks.

I have been photographing the local woodlands for over a decade and was finally rewarded with a forecast of fog, steady rain and light winds in spring. After some thought I decided on a wood that I have struggled to do justice to in the past, as the woodland grows on an escarpment. Escarpments generally denote more competent geology and there is a history of quarrying quartz conglomerate for grinding stones. The woodland is a mixture of singled coppice, derelict coppice and timber trees all broadleaf with the exception of a few yew and holly trees. The ground flora is slowly recovering, benefiting from a harvesting operation a few years ago and along with some windthrow has opened up the canopy. Woodlands dominated by mature beech can be sterile affairs for ground flora.

Some of the rocks littering the slopes result from quarrying activities, others I am not so sure and could well envisage an origin from periglacial mass movement.

The last wood to report on has an extensive carpet of ramsons growing over scowles and in another area large hazel coppice stools with a more diverse ground flora. The Forestry Commission spray paint was also prominent with a number of beech and ash trees marked for harvesting and thinning.

A few evening woodland visits have been unproductive due to harsh lighting and/or wind motion of the subject, nonetheless the four visits with favourable weather, helped mitigate against the poor weather that marred the photographic ambitions of spring of 2015.

A dawn trip and wind issues

An oh, so, cunning plan incorporating the brief warm light of sunrise and ancient woodland ground flora, unravelled when it became apparent the strength of the wind would induce motion blur of subject matter, sigh. I have little enthusiasm for motion blurred woodland ground flora in images and whilst in theory combating motion blur can be alleviated by a higher Iso and wider apertures, in practice it is simpler to wait for optimal conditions. The not all that well thought out back up plan was reverted to: the static subject matter of nearby mineral workings and veteran trees, bathed in the warm light of sunrise.

Given the prevailing weather and skeletal tree canopy, the trees were still early in leaf flush, it might have been better to admit defeat on the wider view and concentrate instead on an intimate view, instead the wider view was persisted with. The root system of a beech held some potential, a tripod leg length of 3m would have coped with a steep slope, given a more elevated point of view and better separated a background yew tree from the beech roots.

Being truthful I failed to get the compositions I wanted without including skeletal branches against powder blue clear sky, which presented some interesting decisions on what to expose for; the sky or shadows? Another week would have seen the flushing of leaves and establishment of a tree canopy that would have masked out the sky, simplifying compositions considerably.

I harboured a hope that the wind might drop in intensity, it didn't and instead seemed to intensify in strength, so, the back up plan to the back up plan, was implemented: a retreat to a more sheltered area of the woodland. The sheltered area was also a shaded area, no bad thing with clear skies and bluebells.

This area of woodland has a history of coppicing with outsize stools of hazel, alder and ash and the ground flora reflects the underlying bedrock and superficial deposits. Well used animal trails courtesy of badger and deer were used to explore the woodland and mitigate against trampling. The densest area of bluebells carpeted a valley spur exposed to the increasing wind and photography was concentrated on the woodland management and flora highlighting the underlying geology.

An hour after sunrise, I called it a day for photography and enjoyed a wander around the woodland, reflecting on just how many outings for landscape photography coincide with ideal conditions for the subject matter.

Wild camping - two bites at the cherry

The met office and mountain weather information service respective forecasts converged to deliver the prospect of potentially a decent sunset AND following sunrise AND I was free of work commitments = wild camping trip. With the sun rising and setting near to the maximum azimuth of summer solstice, a north facing view would offer the best prospect.  The Carneddau in Snowdonia were long overdue a visit, but as so often, 24hrs out the weather forecast changed and not for the better. The plan was revised to further south in Wales, Fforest Fawr and the northern escarpment of Y Mynydd Du, with its scarp and suite of glacial and periglacial landforms. It's an area I know fairly well and a location although well photographed, hasn't quite yet made it onto the UK's landscape portfolio bucket list. Despite some valiant efforts, I've failed miserably to get a respectable sunset/sunrise image of the view and geomorphology.

The weight of the wild camping pack made for slow going up a very modest gradient across the moorland, giving me plenty of time to reflect on; my physical conditioning was sub prime; the ascent of the Carneddau would have been an interesting experience; George Monbiot's observations on the environmental destruction by sheep is pretty much on the money; the flowering bog cotton clearly demarcated areas of degrading peat and when stringers of cirrus cloud started streaming across the sky, I'll confess to wondering why I bother. I did stumble upon a delightful camping spot, a raised fairly level pitch on moss covered ground, a nearby stream and a pitch with a wonderful backdrop, things were looking up. With the tent pitched, dinner cooked and heartily eaten, it was time for a wander.

With wanderlust in overdrive a gulley was ascended on Fan Brycheiniog to see if there was anything of floral interest and on ledges inaccessible to sheep, there was a surprising diversity of flora, most of it past its photograph 'best by date' or inaccessible, a cushion of mossy saxifrage was the highlight.

The main viewpoint for sunset was the escarpment of Bannau Sir Gaer with its suite of geomorphological landforms and exposures of sedimentary geology. With a viewpoint found, there was plenty of time until sunset to stand back and contemplate Deep Time. The youngest features visible are the alluvial fans at the foot of gulleys and vivid active debris flows that scar the hill slopes, some geomorphologists speculate that the active debris flows have been initiated due to a change of grazing regime to predominantly sheep grazing around 1600AD. The next suite of landforms are the talus cones formed from freeze thaw weathering of mudstones/shales and undermining of overlying  sandstones'siltstones, and represent periglacial weathering at the end of the last Ice Age, with minor accumulations in the holocene. The scarp foot landforms and the cirque enclosing Llyn y Fan Fach indicate possible permanent snow beds and the presence of glacial ice of the late Devensian stadial. Though there are landforms that appear 'fresh' in appearance and other landforms with an older, less defined features, possibly demarcating landforms formed either side of an interstadial between the Older and Younger Dryas stadials. There's also some intriguing overprinting of landforms, that indicates an event chronology; alluvial fans 'gulleying' and burying the talus deposits; talus deposits infilling depressions and overriding scarp foot landforms and some of the scarp foot ramparts show successive crests or ridges implying retreat/advance of glacial ice/snow patches. Then it's into Deep Time proper, with a gap of some 280-300 million years to the end of the Variscan orogeny and the folding of bedrock into the South Wales syncline. Back another 70 million years to the end of the Devonian, conglomerates were uncomformably deposited onto a strata of the Lower Devonian. The lower Red Devonian sediments originated from a vast mountain chain eroding to the north. A few miles to the north, in the Myddfai Steep Belt, Silurian strata is almost vertical in attitude and striking SW to NE it represent an expression of the Caledonian orogeny and what is now believed to be a terrane boundary, that pushes the geological history back into Proterozoic.

With sun always setting into a blanket of cloud it was a case of making the most of the last rays of warm light for an image.

On the walk back to the tent some thought was given to what the Cirrus clouds heralded for dawn.

The resident Sky Lark population woke me before the alarm sounded about 03.00hrs, with the tent being buffeted and an ominous 'booming' noise to the west, suggested the weather wasn't going to play ball. A look outside and the NE horizon seemed promising, alas Y Mynydd Du was blanketed in hill fog, sigh. Plan A was abandoned and other options considered with a cunning photography plan B of an image of flowering bog cotton at sunrise formulated.

Eroding peat hags reveal a land surface that is probably representative of its appearance at the end of the last Ice age, when this area would have been tundra.

The weather then deteriorated rapidly and a damp hill fog blanketed everything, which made for an interesting bit of compass work to find the tent again.

The weather seemed set in, so I 'rested my eyes' for a while and opened them to find the hill fog lifting and cloud breaking up, the best of the light was long gone, but the tent pitch deserved a record shot before breaking camp and heading home.

Plan A, oh yes indeedee

The UK was gripped for a few days in an 'Arctic blast', the Mountain Weather forecast noted snow falling, less endearing were the words upland gales and wind chill in minus double digits. I thought it best to wait for the wind to ease and finally initiate Plan A.

A 20 second exposure

When the forecast finally predicted that winds would drop, Plan A was finally rolled out. Parking up at Blaen-y-glyn car park and there was a lot of cloud overhead, maybe it would break up?  Ice was conspicuous, but there wasn't as much snow as I'd been expecting and not full on winter conditions. I appreciate the effectiveness of crampons, but the convenience of Kahtoola micro spikes generally wins out for the Brecon Beacons terrain, the crampons were left in the boot. The path up had some interest in parts with sheet ice, consolidated snow and thigh deep drifts, the going was good though, courtesy of walkers who had trail breaked on the preceding days. Up on the plateau a few things became apparent.

Caerfanell valley

Extensive hill fog covered the Brecon Fans and higher ground, which was disappointing, as these summits were to form the main composition viewpoint. The northerly wind was also a lot stronger and buffeting, this was bad for both windchill and tripod stability. Conversely, the northerly wind was a good thing too, as cold, clear, moving air offers excellent visibility and clarity, not something that can be typed too often, as the UK has a maritime climate with moisture laden air. The cloud overhead was extensive, but the south easterly horizon appeared clear. There seemed little point in heading off to be enveloped in fog and plenty of time to spare before dawn to revise my plan and find a viewpoint. The chances of side lighting were minimal, a pity as the landslide under Cwar y Gigfran might have had some potential,  a view of the sunrise down the Caerfanel valley offered the best hope, with the misfit streams in a glaciated valley.  I dumped the rucksack and spent 30 mins scouting the edge of Craig y Fan Ddu for i) a sheltered viewpoint and ii)  I needed to keep moving to keep warm.

I was fortunate enough to get a red sky and horizon for dawn and sunrise, less fortunate was the wind strength and buffeting, which made most long exposures soft and forced a move to the sheltered ground around Blaen Caerfanell.

With sunrise over,  I decided to cut across Gwaun Cerrig Llwydion to the Craig Cwareli overlooking Cwm Oergwm, the aptly named cold valley. Gwaun Cerrig Llwydion is a plateau. in part covered with an eroded and eroding surface of blanket peat and as the ground was frozen solid, the joys of shin deep bog were negated. In any case the snow mantled peat hags would offer some interest, whilst waiting for improved weather to hopefully manifest itself.  Wind ablation of snow created this mildly unnerving scene amongst the peat hags, anthropogenic snow heads with grass for hair.

Snow heads

The mechanism(s) for blanket peat erosion, forming peat hags, hasn't convincingly been proven, but  whatever the cause, the peat hags on Gwaun Cerrig Llwydion are impressive in their size, number and extent. I also managed to disturb some the resident Red Grouse on my wander.

Brief sunlight

Before everything had froze solid, water draining from the blanket peat had formed icicles and the weight of ice hanging had visibly stretched and pulled down on the vegetated layer covering the peat. Once this protective vegetation mat is removed, the underlying peat is exposed to the elements and weathered away. From my limited observations, icicles indicating water draining from blanket peat usually appeared in the 'head wall' of an erosion embayment, cutting back into the blanket peat.

Icicles

With the sun showing signs of breaking through the cloud and Cribyn's summit clearing of hill fog, it was heads up and time to explore the views.

 The cloud masking Cadair Arthur refused to play ball and clear, sigh.

Cwm Oergwm

Craig Cwareli was fully exposed to the wind, the windchill was pretty severe and I was thankful to Canon engineers for designing a camera that I could operate wearing gloves.  At the head of Cwm Oergwm there's a suite of landforms at the foot of the escarpment that have proved elusive for me to photograph, I was hopeful that snow cover and a BW conversion would reveal their nature, with the benefit of hindsight, I probably needed a better point of view, perspective and more snow. Some of the landform features represent cirque glaciation moraines, other landforms are more contentious and have provoked some discussion on their nature.

100mm BW

After 6 hours on the hill, the ominous darkening of the sky and lowering of cloud base, signalled an end to day and time to head home. Plan A had at last been rolled out, but I'd have liked the hills to have cleared of fog/cloud for dawn and try again to get the views I'd last seen in 2013. On the other hand I'd probably have missed the views over the Caerfanell valley.

2013 Dawn

2013 Sunrise

Plan C

The next outing was after there been a thaw, followed by more snowfall in freezing temperatures, an earlier rise too, to take into account the weather warnings for Ice and extended journey times, Grand Plan A for a high summit view on the Brecon Fans was firmly in my sights and with no travel delays, everything was good. Turning off the well gritted A40 onto a minor road and the ungritted road conditions weren't the best. Parking up the car and exiting it, 3 things were apparent - everywhere was covered in ice, even low down the wind was decidedly breezy and the summits seemed covered in cloud, not good. Now I've stood around in windchill, waiting for summits to clear and suffered for my optimism, so Plan A was abandoned.

Plan B, initiated carry on west and take the A road from Defynnog to Craig y Nos  for a location on the south side. Plan B was abandoned when it was soon evident the road hadn't been gritted and a convoy of tail lights in the distance, suggested more crawling.

OK, Plan C carry on the A40 and head for the moorland north of Y Mynydd Du where the headwaters of the River Usk rise. The ungritted minor roads would be interesting and didn't disappoint.

Winter tyre conditions

Parking up and the view south revealed that Y Mynydd Du was wreathed in cloud and the view North to an impressive train of shower clouds tracking eastward, hopes for a dawn spectacular faded.  The spectacle of spindrift on the hills underlined the wise move to have abandoned an excursion to higher elevations.  I'm conscious writing this, just how many times my plans are changed at short notice to accommodate weather conditions, I don't believe it is indecisiveness, more case of experience of actual weather on the hills and fallibility of a Met Office weather forecast.

The ability of animals to endure the elements has to be respected and this was illustrated by a couple of dozen that had hunkered down in the lee of a small scarp/clumps of rushes and adjacent to the infant river Usk.  In comparison with the terrain on offer, this was an excellent choice - the high river bank and rush clumps provided some shelter from wind and ground relatively well drained and dry. 

Shelter

I'm giving credit to the local hill farmer, that these sheep are the ewes left out on the hills all winter to accrue the survival knowledge of shelter and food resources of this terrain, the over wintered upland ewes, then guide the main flock when it returns in more clement weather. I thought there is a name given to these ewes and a search of the web to find the correct terminology for sheep left out on the hill over winter, was unsuccessful.  My search did throw up one of the more tragic episodes in sheep husbandry in the upland environs.  The Gonial Blast in late January 1794 witnessed a storm hit the Southern Uplands of Scotland, when the snow melted the following was reported "there is a place called the Beds of Esk, where the tide throws out and leaves whatever is carried into it by the rivers. When the flood after the storm subsided, there was found on that place and shores adjacent, one thousand eight hundred and forty sheep, nine black cattle, three horses, two men, one woman, forty-five dogs and one hundred and eighty hares, beside a number of meaner animals" these bodies washed down were the ones resting close to or in water courses, the actual death toll must have been staggering. 'Gonial' or  'Goniel', is the term applied to the mutton of sheep found dead, from which the smoked mutton-hams are got.

Prior to this trip I'd packed a 100mm prime and 80-200 tele zoom and for this excursion I'd swapped the zoom for a 180mm prime. Sod's Law dictated I could have done with a 130-150mm to abstract a meander loop and the cloud colour reflected from the water. The concept was good, the DoF, execution and point of view less so.

Reflected colour

A view to the north, with the 180mm prime, over the meander loops, two flavours of the cloud colour and the silviculture of the Glasfynydd Forest, was more acceptable.

The cloud to the south over Y Mynydd Du finally started to break up and clear. Now despite the cliche of a landscape image with the ubiquitous glacial erratic in the foreground, on a featureless moor an erratic is not to be sniffed at, especially as the provenance of the erratic was highly likely, to be from the Y Mynnyd Du escarpment and hints strongly at the direction of glacial ice flow.

Cliche glacial erratic I

Cliche glacial erratic II

Cliched landscape foreground glacial erratic images satiated, it was time to wander. It's fair to say the wanderlust was short lived as the novelty of trail breaking through increasingly deeper snow, the wind increasing and clearing sky, rapidly translated into sinking enthusiasm and a trip up to Llyn y Fan Fach was saved for another day.

Instead the longer lenses were brought out to play, to try and capture spindrift on the spur of Fan Foel.

180mm

100mm

Then it was time to head back for some entertainment on the ungritted roads.