Wet

Morning started grey and damp, I spent most of it in a telephone conference, discussing proposed organisational changes affecting nature conservation and the environment in Wales. Politicians and senior management love re-organisations. It makes them look like they are doing something important. But in my experience the re-organisation is usually just a big distraction from getting on with the real job.

Anyway, the sun was out by lunchtime and in the afternoon I paid a visit to a local steep-sided wooded stream valley in the company of a good friend of mine who is a renowned botanist. We checked on what are three of the rarest lichens in Wales, all occurring in this single woodland. (One of them has the delightful name "Blarneya hibernica").

At one point my friend crossed the stream and my little dog tried to follow. But her legs are only about 4 inches long and she got soaked. We had to haul her out (she can't swim).

On way back, in a gale, we stopped to admire Bedd Taliesen - by legend the grave of the 6th century Welsh poet Taliesen, but in fact a Bronze Age relic.

Walking along the Prom in the dark at 6.30 the sea, with a strong wind behind it, was already starting to break over the wall, with still another couple of hours to go till high tide.