Yr Elen

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Pictured, Yr Elen, from above Mynydd Llandegai late this morning, just before the squall that was already forming over the Eryri massif obscured the Carneddau in grey cloud and rain: a promising start that was already thwarted by the time we had reached the other side of Deiniolen, heading for Ynys Môn and lunch. The Bull in Biwmaris proved an unworkable option as it was rammed, and they don't do bar-food on Sundays when full. So a quick pint later, we decided to decamp to The Gazelle again for a Sunday roast and a glass of wine.

After a mercifully light shop at Waitrose in Porthaethwy, we hied for home and the curiosity of a long-distance topical quiz via John's phone with friends in Scotland for an hour. Just a snack for supper, followed by a good two or three hours jangle, and Fairview Heights is settling down for the night: not exactly rock & roll, but there you go: we are all now, shall we say, a tad advanced in years, and so quite naturally averse to staying up till dawn for whatever reason; although personally I still seldom retire till quite late.

What I will say apropos of the above pictured mountain is that I've always loved the shape of Yr Elen and the ridge leading up the back of it, from the very first time I clapped eyes on it in 1980: it is a most beautiful mountain from so many angles; either from the approach to Halfway Bridge from Bangor, the view from Bethesda High Street by The Douglas Arms, or indeed from viewpoints such as Mynydd Llandegai as above. I've always pictured it as a dragon's back and tail cloaked by or absorbed into the landscape itself, as if resting to rise once again in some imagined future Wales; a Romantic Celtic legend as yet untold and unwritten. Simply beautiful...  

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