Jupiter – Saturn Conjunction

I think it’s rained almost everyday for the past six weeks. On about four or five of those days, the rain has arrived in short showers overnight, and the day has stayed dry and clear. The rest of the time we’ve been sat in cloud, with either strong winds driving the rain against the house or, even worse, a steady, slow seeping drizzle that gets between the tiles surrounding the skylights and drips water onto the floor. On those dreary dark days it can feel like we’re living in a damp cave.

Given this, we didn’t think the chances of seeing the Jupiter – Saturn conjunction were very high, certainly not on the Solstice itself. But on Sunday the weather forecast was better and we made plans to travel down to Criccieth to see if we could spot it. The planets were in the south-west, quite close to the horizon and so were impossible for us to see from home because of the hills. We got there just as the sun had set and had a walk along the beach as the sky darkened enough for the stars to appear.

On the shot above you can just about pick it out (look up from the k in the word pick) Steve also managed to get a close up of sorts too. You could see the two planets clearly with the naked eye but it was better with binoculars – my eyes aren’t what they were unfortunately!

As it got darker the temperature dropped quite considerably and I was glad of my woolly hat, so you can understand my astonishment when a guy got out of the car next to me, towel in hand, and jogged down the beach and into the choppy water!

A visit to Criccieth Beach

We took the dogs out for a walk yesterday afternoon, it had been bright and dry all morning but of course as soon as we decided to head out the weather turned! Fortunately the rain held off but there were low grey clouds, everything was monochrome. The wind made your nose and eyes water and whipped the waves up. It did mean that we almost had the place to ourselves though.

We’d forgotten to bring a ball and were looking for a suitable stick when Ste found a dog ball (one of those tennis ball types with paw prints) amongst the pebbles – still in it’s plastic wrapping! The gods were smiling, perhaps even having a gentle chuckle. There were some huge pieces of timber washed up, we walked back along the shingle bank at the top of the beach for a while and it was surprisingly free of the usual detritus of plastic. Some good folks must have organised a clean up. The restaurant, Dylans, provides litter pickers and bin bags and will exchange a full bag for a cup of coffee which is a great way of encouraging people to do their bit.

Walking back along the promenade towards the freshwater stream so the dogs could have a drink, we came across some artwork, a mandala and a mermaid. The photos were taken looking down and I’ve had to flip the mermaid so she isn’t standing on her head, it means the perspective is a bit screwed. All the photos were taken on my phone – when I took my camera out, the battery died!

The Welsh Incident

‘But that was nothing to what things came out
From the sea-caves of Criccieth yonder.’
‘What were they? Mermaids? dragons? ghosts?’
‘Nothing at all of any things like that.’
‘What were they, then?’

‘All sorts of queer things,
Things never seen or heard or written about,
Very strange, un-Welsh, utterly peculiar
Things. Oh, solid enough they seemed to touch,
Had anyone dared it. Marvellous creation,
All various shapes and sizes, and no sizes,
All new, each perfectly unlike his neighbour,
Though all came moving slowly out together.’
‘Describe just one of them.’
‘I am unable.’
‘What were their colours?’
‘Mostly nameless colours,
Colours you’d like to see; but one was puce
Or perhaps more like crimson, but not purplish.
Some had no colour.’

‘Tell me, had they legs?’
‘Not a leg or foot among them that I saw.’
‘But did these things come out in any order?’
What o’clock was it? What was the day of the week?
Who else was present? How was the weather?’
‘I was coming to that. It was half-past three
On Easter Tuesday last. The sun was shining.
The Harlech Silver Band played Marchog Jesu
On thrity-seven shimmering instruments,
Collecting for Caernarvon’s (Fever) Hospital Fund.
The populations of Pwllheli, Criccieth,
Portmadoc, Borth, Tremadoc, Penrhyndeudraeth,
Were all assembled. Criccieth’s mayor addressed them
First in good Welsh and then in fluent English,
Twisting his fingers in his chain of office,
Welcoming the things. They came out on the sand,
Not keeping time to the band, moving seaward
Silently at a snail’s pace. But at last
The most odd, indescribable thing of all
Which hardly one man there could see for wonder
Did something recognizably a something.’

‘Well, what?’
‘It made a noise.’
‘A frightening noise?’
‘No, no.’
‘A musical noise? A noise of scuffling?’
‘No, but a very loud, respectable noise —
Like groaning to oneself on Sunday morning
In Chapel, close before the second psalm.’
‘What did the mayor do?’

‘I was coming to that.’

The Welsh Incident – Robert Graves