Day 33: Cerys Hafana - Cilgerran (2022; UK) Originally on her 2022 album 'Edyf', this is a live version from the 2023 Lleisiau Eraill Aberteifi (Other Voices Cardigan) festival, because watching her play the Welsh triple harp is captivating. song.link/y/b4oG3xZ60Ck #TheTwen2ie5

My living room is filled with a strange twilight. From the south-facing window, in a yellow sky, a large group of geese fly towards the Irish sea; below, the traffic is starting to build, ruining the scene with its annoying noise and lights.

A cold rainy morning. The town and hills are obscured by mist. From the living room window, I can see as far as the school which is around 300 metres away. The weather says it's going to rain until Wednesday week. Ugh. Tea, beetroot crackers with Wensleydale and gherkins for breakfast.

Obsessed with these pictures and sweaters worn by Jean Shrimpton and Terence Stamp

Calan Gaeaf: the late-afternoon sky is streaked with long cirrus clouds; at sunset they are obscured by their darkening cumulus cousins. The light fails quickly and the room suddenly feels cold and depressingly colourless; turning the lamp on only seems to add to the evening's dreariness.

Neep Lantern #halloween

Hallowe'en, colourless sunset. In the dusk, little witches, devils, and ghosts begin to gather; later, in the kitchen, as I carve my neep lantern, their disembodied voices come eerily through the vent as they pass the house.

For a few minutes the low sun sets light to the autumn mist obscuring the hills in a yellow sea.

#Totentanz2025 on #12inchTuesday: Les Vampyrettes – Les Vampyrettes Released 45 years ago, in November 1980 (not otd, but: 3 days til Halloween!). The mutants are dancing! #LesVampyrettes = #AxelGros + #ConnyPlanck + #HolgerCzukay #minimal #SynthPop #experimental ▶️ youtu.be/-D-QgbSUslo?...

New Record: Landscapes V Ten sketches recorded between August and October 2025. The pieces are based on fragments originally recorded between 1997 and 2000. #ambient #ambientmusic #musicsky auguststars.bandcamp.com/album/landsc...

Up at 5 am. In the cold living room, I have a breakfast of tea, and caraway crackers with cheese and sauerkraut. Outside, it is still night. The streets are quiet. I like this time. The boy cat appears next to me and all I can see in the darkness are his glowing eyes.

Grey dusk. Little patches of pale yellow sky can be seen on the horizon to the south where there are breaks in the lines of grey-blue clouds near the land. The hills and mountains are black but for the odd house or farm, and a tractor, whose flashing amber beacon, cuts across a hillside.

The bluey dawn brings the rain. The morning traffic is increasing and the sound of the cars on wet tarmac grates on my nerves.

R. S. Thomas "Reservoirs" #CofiwchDryweryn #Cymru #Poetry

21 Hydref: Cofiwch Dryweryn 21st October: Remember Tryweryn (Ffotograff: Aberteifi) #cymru

Made me smile to discover this. A little nugget. 😊

A shadowless afternoon. The Pembrokeshire hills feel closer; the fields and trees have a strange clarity. The evening brings low grey clouds and ruins this phenomenon, returning the hills to a suitable hazy distance.

Up at 4 am. Outside, it's misty. I sit at the living room window for a while, drinking tea and eating oat biscuits, enjoying the stillness. At 7 am, the crows and jackdaws begin to gather in their murders and clatterings, circling against a low grey sky and landing ominously on the roof ridges.

The evening sky reminded me of the opening to R. S. Thomas's Welsh Landscape: To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses.

The setting sun has left behind a line of dark blood red beneath the black where the sky and Preseli mountains meet. The lights are on behind windows of the houses and farms dotted about the distant hillsides; there is always something comforting in this. I head out to buy bread, cheese, and beer.

The sky is grey again, but the clouds are lower, softening the light. An avenue of evergreens stand out against an increasingly autumnal landscape. A little girl plays on the edge of the rugby field while her mam waits for the bus. The air is mild today, which sadly has become normal for October.

Grey Thursday. The jackdaws and crows rest on roof ridges, chimney pots, and telegraph poles. The trees are colouring around the verdigris bell tower of the old school. However, the dead afternoon light brings a strangely unsettling feeling to the scene, the colours seem off somehow...

I was awake all night, I went to bed unsuccessfully three times. I finally fell asleep in the late morning after finishing Lyngstad's translation of Hunger. I woke in the late afternoon with a pain on the right side of my neck. The sun was bright behind the curtains but I didn't bother opening them.

Grey day

With the living room light on, the darkening sky looks teal-blue. Earlier, there was a pink and red sunset quickly obscured by dirty mauve-coloured clouds. I suppose it would have been thought of as a dramatic sky, but I just found it dreary, as I do with most things recently.

Through the south facing window there's a line of vague pink, I assume where the sky meets the land, I can't tell from where I'm sitting. However, it's fleeting and the sky is soon a depressing Sunday blue, darkening rapidly. My room is black now, apart from a section of wall lit by a streetlight.

I walked to the pharmacy under a white sky with small grey clouds scudding beneath it; I hate that term, scud, but given the dreariness of the afternoon it seems appropriate. I stopped to watch a lone red kite circle above the Aberystwyth Road but the light was migrainous so I quickly moved on.

It was foggy this morning, now the room is beautifully sunlit but I still have that dreary Sunday feeling. I painted the living room walls brilliant white to make the most of the light. The light is different in Wales, somehow, as is the dark... it's a hard to explain... it just is.

What an image! "Paris, 1967” Photographer Joel Meyerowitz.

The sky is a dull amber and the light is strange. The distant landscape that was hidden by the rain is starting to reappear. On the horizon to the south there is a band of clear sky but overhead it is still heavy with darkening grey cloud. Parmigiana, potatoes, and red wine for tea.

Woke up late after a fitful sleep. I kept waking from vivid escitalopramic dreams. In the Afternoon, under a lowering sky, I watch Cardigan Town lose to Felinfach. I get home just as it starts to rain heavily. I'm now listening to Harold Budd in the darkening living room.

Pleasant sunrise. The sky is clear and the rugby field is silver with dew. The trees on the distant hills around St Dogs are beginning to colour. In the cold kitchen, I have a breakfast of crumpets and oat milk, feeling too lazy to brew tea.

Fleeting, but bright, sunset. Some of the green fields on the Pembrokeshire side of the Teifi are beginning to yellow but the surrounding trees still have a green lushness, even in the failing light. The smell of distant fires give the evening an autumnal feel. September is passing quickly.

Georgia O'Keeffe, Blue Wave Maine, 1926 #WomensArt

The bedroom is lit a rosy gold as the sun sets. The wardrobe across from the bed, a cheap veneered post-war rectangle with a broken lock, looks a rich burnt umber rather than its usual dreary brown. It takes the last of my will to get off the bed, put my shoes on, and go out to buy wine.

Up at dawn. In the cold kitchen I brew tea and eat biscuits. Later, I stand at the window as the blue-grey sky lightens above above a grey-green landscape. With the brightening of the room, I notice the gladioli are opening, I believed them to be purple, they are in fact carmine, my favourite red.

The postman woke me with an incessant ringing of the bell this morning, though it's easy to forgive as I'd slept through my alarm. I ate rye bread and Emmental for breakfast and while standing at the kitchen window drinking hot sweet tea, I think of Neuburg's poem "October", In gardens of grey...

Morning all. Photograph by Evelyn Hofer, Dublin, 1966.

Momus covers Jeanne Balibar's song “Les Fantômes”. youtu.be/5GG47YZN_Dw

Sad Day Sleep well, Stephen Luscombe (Once, back in the halcyon days of MySpace, Stephen sent me message out of the blue via my music page. The message was abstract and cute, and growing up a Blancmange fan, I felt a little star-struck!)

The sky is dusky yellow where it meets the Preselis and the lights begin to go on behind the windows of the distant houses. It feels strangely late. I am wearing a coat for the first time since spring and there is an autumnal chill to the evening as I walk to the shop to buy wine and bread.

Woke up at 3.30 am in pain from a pulled intercostal muscle. Enjoyed a breakfast of naproxen, codeine, rye bread, cheese, and gherkins. The sun's up now. the sky is pink but strangely the light is dreary.

Rainy morning.

Cold morning. Silvery dew covers the rugby field. The full moon sits high and clear above St Dogs giving the morning a slightly surreal feel given the brightness of the sky. Below it the gathering clouds turn from pink to white and grey-blue. I breakfast on bread, feta, and hot honey-sweetened tea.

Happy new September ⭐️ Hornsea 1976 love mug series 🧡 designed by Kenneth Townsend

Another Sunday. Jackdaws gather on roof ridges and above them gulls glide awkwardly in a lowering sky. It's another windy day, Y Ddraig Goch by the rugby field is flying straight out and barely flutters. The distant fields look grey-green in the dull light.

Pink morning. The wind blows half-heartedly and the sun reflects off the windows of distant houses on the hills around St Dogs. Beyond the town, the landscape looks lush and green, however, there's a sense of summer waning. I hate Sundays but this morning isn't wasted on me.

The traffic noise on the wet road is grating and dreary. The wind rattles the windows and what makes it through the vents swirls haphazardly around the room like ghosts. Then, sudden sun and outside, somewhere above the landscape, there'll be a rainbow but I've no will to go to the window and look.

Miene Hunde lieben es das gleich als Erstes am Samstag zu hören.

Sogni d'oro... ( #tobydammit )