Ionawr 2018

30th January 2018
Fe fydd Ionawr 2018 yn cael ei gofio yn yr ardal hon am y llifogydd cas iawn a gafwyd ar draws Ceredigion, yn enwedig yng ngogledd y sir. Er bod eu heffaith i'w gweld o fewn tafliad carreg i'r tŷ acw, nid oeddwn mewn cyflwr i fentro allan i'w cofnodi.

Yn anffodus, er i'r mis ddechrau yn dda i mi, gyda llawer o gerdded, a theimlo ar ben y byd, yn sydyn, ar ganol trwmgwsg braf, fe ddaeth yr annwyd neu'r ffliw i fy neffro. A dyna ddiwedd, fwy na heb, ar grwydro er mwyn tynnu lluniau am rai wythnosau!

Trwy rhyw lwc - neu anlwc, doedd gen i ddim 'gwaith ffotograffiaeth sy'n talu' yn ystod y mis, felly doeddwn i ddim yn gorfod siomi neb heblaw'r rheolwr banc, fel petai. Gweithio neu beidio, mae costau cynnal y sioe yn ddiddiwedd, felly gobeithio y daw rhywbeth i'r fei yn ystod mis Chwefror i wneud i fyny am y golled.

Dyma'r darnau da o'r mis, cyn i'r annwyd afael!

January started really well, and I felt, for once, gloriously fit. Then the cold, or maybe the flu, woke me up in the middle of the night, and weeks later it lingers on, draining all energy. Hence I have no pictures of the dramatic floods which affected properties which were within just a few hundred yards of my home.

Luckily (or unluckily) I didn't have any photo work scheduled for January, so at least I didn't let anyone down, except myself and the virtual bank manager. Hopefully things will pick up during February.

Here are the good bits salvaged from an otherwise abysmal month.

Crossing borders

The row of people out for a walk on the beach somehow suggested to me various borders. They are standing on the edge, where sea and land converge, on a line which is shifting and changing all the while. The sea in this area is a constant worry, as storm driven waves erode the land and threaten settlements. This is also a line between past and present, as the beach is an area which was once covered by forest, the remains of which sometimes appear out of the sand, a vertical border between how we are now and how we were 6,000 years ago. In this instant of taking the picture, it was also a linguistic, maybe even cultural border, as we walked one way speaking what has recently become the minority language in Ceredigion - Welsh, and the other group passed in the opposite direction, speaking the language of the new majority - English. It's also the border between reality and myth, as beyond the shore lies the mythical? drowned kingdom of Cantre'r Gwaelod.
So that which is a straightforward snap to the casual observer, to me is a most melancholic scene!


Mawn ar draeth y Borth
The ancient peat deposits on the beach at Borth

Storm Eleanor / Aberystwyth

Llyn Blaenmelindwr

Llyn Syfydrin ar ddiwrnod oer iawn. Fe fferais wrth dynnu llun yr oeddwn wedi'i addo'i gymryd.
Syfydrin on a very cold day. I'd promised to take a picture of the lake, and dashed over one day as the conditions were just about perfect for the required shot. Well, dashed is not really the word, as I was stuck for most of the journey behind a van carrying horses. It literally averaged seven miles per hour, the driver not deigning to take advantage of any of the spaces provided for pulling-in.
It also took a long while to get the second (main) picture (after climbing up the steep hill) as someone turned up in a big van with amongst other things, a drone, spending ages and ages at mid-scene fiddling with it, blocking a clean view. The sun moved around, causing too much flare, which meant that I couldn't get the shot I'd hoped for. Then, when all had ambled just out of view, I prepared to take a shot from a now compromised angle. But at that second, a van appeared on the track, and I had to wait for it to move out of shot. I grabbed the picture, but I couldn't take any more frames from different viewpoints, as a (genuinely charming) family spilled out, encouraging their dog to plunge in and out of the lake, repeatedly. I decided to venture out again on a later day, but unbelievably, the horse van was on the road again, and so I turned back. You win a few, you lose a few more.

Coedwig, a llanast
On the way back, I went for a walk in the woods, to catch the orange rays of the setting sun and shadows between the trees.

Cefais fraw o weld hen ddrymiau dal cemegau, soffas, a 'nwyddau gwynion' wedi'u taflu i lawr i'r goedwig.
I was saddned to discover chemical containers, rotting furniture and white goods dumped in the woods.



Boncyff tanddwr 'Cantre'r Gwaelod'
Submerged tree stump, again at Borth on another, even colder, day.

Llwyd ar lwyd
Umpteen shades of grey. A fitting precursor to my encounter with 50 shades of cold.

Diolch am ddarllen
Thanks for reading

Sniff sniff.



Photo comment By Huw Williams: Diddorol iawn Iestyn a lluniau bendigedig fel arfer.
Photo comment By Rhidian: Gwych - y lluniau a'r meddwl y tu o^l iddyn nhw.

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