Cae Non

First version of my weather station

Having been a weatherman for over twenty years has clearly left it marks with me and the state of the atmosphere and its short term fluctuations and long term changes are still a keen interest of mine. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that at the beginning of April 2012 I have set up this very basic weather station near the top end of the field. Restricted by the absence of electricity to run a computer and me not being present there on a daily basis it doesn’t actually report live weather data to any of the on-line weather websites but at least captures the basic values of rainfall, maximum and minimum air temperature and is therefore more of a climatological station. What I hope to achieve under these limiting circumstances is to at least collect these three values on a monthly basis and create a set of data that might over time indicate changes in current weather patterns.

The raingauge used is a Climemet CM1016 that holds up to 225 mm (about 9 inches) of rain, which is more than enough for most months, and a fairly basic and easy to handle and reset minimum/maximum thermometer, designed for use in greenhouses and grow rooms but also outdoors, which I housed underneath two up-side-down plant pots to avoid direct exposure to sunlight.

After almost six months of running both the rain gauge and minimum thermometer seem to deliver fairly accurate readings which compare well to surrounding weather stations in Penllyn, Ynys Mon and Eryri. The maximum temperature though tends to be several degrees too high as the improvised plant pot solution is obviously not up to standard and will need rectifying.

To this end I have already part-assembled a makeshift ‘Stevenson screen’, using louvre panels normally used for airing of bathrooms. When complete it should have a solar panel on the roof to run a small fan inside in the hope that the airflow will markedly reduce the over-reading in strong sunlight. I shall endeavour to complete and set up this improved device by the end of this year and also add on another sensor to capture the grass minimum temperature, which is taken at 5cm (2 inches) above ground.

A summary of the readings taken so far will be following shortly!

When I was a very small child, my mother often used to sing as she did her housework and I particularly remember one fine dry summer when she frequently sang “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” from the musical “Oklahoma”. Looking from the back of our cottage, out across the river and the field on the other side, there was indeed a bright golden haze spread over it.

Today began with just such another perfect morning. Soft grey shadows lay long across the mountain sides as the newly risen sun peeped over a distant ridge; golden sunlight dappled the heavily dewed grass beneath the willow trees. The air was cool but held the promise of warmth to come. The whole world lay utterly still. A bumble bee buzzed haphazardly past me and a cuckoo called from across the other side of the valley. Swathes and splashes of every shade of green imaginable lay banked around me. All this, just for me? What total perfection! How immeasurably rich I am!

How rich were you today?

As this is the first post that I have put on here, I suppose that the first thing I should do is to say “hello”!

The calendar might tell us that we have only just entered into spring, but the land definitely has other ideas! Spring has been thrusting ahead for many weeks now.. green shoots are sprouting everywhere, buds are swelling, birds have been chorusing gloriously since January.

It is marvellous to see the turning of the season and life returning with full thrust but it can become a little worrying too.

Suddenly I can see that some of the tasks I had hoped to complete before spring really got under way are simply not going to get done and that I will probably have to wait until next winter to do them… the planting of the labyrinth and the planting/building of a willow loo structure among them!

But in the end, does it really matter? Our presence at Cae Non has always been based on working sensitively with the land, the weather and the seasons, and it is the living presences now that must take precedence. It is looking around you and smelling the air, really feeling that sunshine, really appreciating that hot mug of coffee, really seeing and hearing the people in front of you that is most important. To live fully and happily in this moment.

Everyone says that time seems to be going faster… everyone seems so terribly busy with so much to fit in and do. Suppose the world ended tomorrow. Would it really have mattered whether that last document was typed, the last washer-load of clothes done, the cushions straightened, the front porch swept? But the few minutes you gave to your neighbour next door, or your mum on the phone, or your partner or child would. Perhaps we should all aim to have a few free minutes each day, to lovingly and unhurriedly bestow on someone we care about… even ourselves.

Time to take our time occasionally, and really stop and appreciate what is going on around us… have a nice day!

We ceremoniously planted the first two trees at the beginning of August; not the right time of year to do so, but they were already growing in pots, and we couldn’t wait! These were an oak and a holly and went into the main ritual area. (The oak is thriving and looked very pretty in the autumn with it’s coloured leaves, but the holly has died…. I think that the very wet winter was too much for it.)

My first attempt

It was to be January before the next trees went into the ground. Several hundred willows, some of which I planted as a willow coppice, and others which I planted as “fedging” along the back of the hard standing and leading off it onto the paths. Fedging is a composite word made from up “fence” and “hedge”. Willow whips are pushed into the ground every 12” at a 45 degree angle, and then a second row are similarly pushed into the ground leaning the other way. After that it is a case of weaving the whips together so that they form a wall of diamond shapes, which come the spring should sprout and thickly bush. I find forming the fedging tremendously satisfying, even the last lot that I put in while the rain lashed at my back, the wind buffeted me about and my mittened hands gradually froze!

On New Year’s Eve, the four of us spent the afternoon on the land. Jenn and Dafydd wanted to plant the first two trees of Jenn’s Cauldron Grove before she had to return to the States for the start of the new semester. The trees represent themselves: the masculine energies of the alder and the femine qualities of the birch. It was a damp grey day, but later we relaxed around the stove where a blazing log fire toasted us all, and as the short afternoon daylight quickly faded into dusk, we lit the candles and enjoyed large mugs of hot steaming tea and delicious chocolaty fragrant spice cakes as big as saucers (a Christmas present sent to Holger from Germany).

Of course there are thousands of trees yet to plant, and so many places to clear and things to build, but I am in no hurry. I want to make the most of the huge charm and pleasure of the initial creation; time for watching how it will develop later. I mean to make the very most of every day and every job; it is the journey that is the important thing, not the eventual destination reached.

At the end of October I decided that I needed to go on retreat myself and take spiritually take stock. However, I am not the kind of person who can sit and meditate or journey all day, and derive much benefit from physical work which I find helps to sharpen my focus and clarify my mind.

Steps cut into clay

One beautiful warm sunny afternoon I decided to do something about access to the stream where I collect the drinking water from. The water has cut deeply into the clay banks and it is a good 2′ down making it difficult to get down to it. I found some rare flat stones from around the site of the island excavation and dragged them in the wheelbarrow all the way up to the top of the field, cutting step shapes out of the clay and lining them with the stone.

Stream and bench under gorse

I am sure that eventually we will have to do something a little larger and more permanent but it works well for now. Besides which, they gave me great pleasure and satisfaction to build.

I also cleared beneath a large old gorse bush on the opposite side of the stream from the steps and placed a makeshift bench there.

It is often warm and sheltered there and a wonderful place to sit besides the running chuckling water… and looking out across the field from there one can see in the hazy blue distance all the mountain ridges of north Meirionnydd. Perfect!

View of part of the island... Dogs enjoying the water - not yet to full capacity

Driving down to the field one morning we went past a cottage with a large garden, in which I fleetingly espied a pond with a tiny island in the middle of it. Now I have always had a dream to own my very own island one day, and by now we knew that if we dug a hole at Cae Non it would soon fill up with water. Perhaps neil would dig me a big broad hole before he removed the digger?

Neil was as enthusiastic as I with the idea and shortly afterwards he asked me to mark out where I would like my island to be, and not to restrict myself too severely to size; after all, I have got five acres to play with!

Beginning the channel round the island... Water already gathering

I paced about the field for a while with an armful of 6′ garden canes; made my decision and began marking out where I would like the edges of the island to be. Then Neil brought in the digger and began to scrape off the top flora. Once we were satisfied with the shape, he dug deeper. Over several afternoons of work he made a channel 6′ – 8′ wide and 2′ – 4′ deep. Because of the way the land ever so gently slopes, he had to put in two clay barriers to prevent the water from the top end running over the banks at the lower end and flooding everything.

Part of channel around island; now filled with water, clay dam holding higher water in distance

We now have access by stepping stones, one large boulder that Neil found while digging and didn’t want to try and remove, and a couple of others dislodged in the process and repositioned as required.

The Island… Ynys Non… is roughly tear-shaped and large enough for a group to gather there, or for a couple of small tents to be put up and someone camp there. There are four low bushy willow trees growing on it but I would also like to plant at least one apple tree there, which would become a very magical apple, and the whole island will be my own little Isle of Avalon! (At Cae Non, dreams really can, and do, come true!)