Paradise in Spring

26th May, 2023

A bright yellow sun setting over a valley with shards of white light hitting a slate roof in the foreground. The trees and grass all bathed in a soft yellow. — Sunset over the Little Cowshed

A glassy pond reflecting the blue sky and the trees and grass surrounding the pond — The pond at Canvas & Campfires

Close up of a hawthorn branch covered in hundreds of tiny cream/white flowers. — Hawthorn flowers at Canvas & Campfires

A blue sky on a spring day over a Welsh valley dotted with trees, a large pond reflecting the sun and a slate roof in the foreground — Views over the Little Cowshed

An orange sun, with shards of orange light setting over a hill in shadow, blue sky with orange clouds dotting the sky above and a beech tree in full leaf in the foreground — Sunset at Canvas & Campfires

A summers day and a wide shot of the view across a Welsh valley, a Welsh oak stands proud above hawthorn tress and a tent's roof is in the middle distance — View over the glamping field

Glamping in Spring

We live in paradise. The longer we are here the more I know it to be true. We get hints of it through the Winter, when the sunlight glistens on the frost or snow. The winters can be astonishing, but as all good farmers will tell you, winters are supposed to be hard, and sometimes they are, but come the Spring we enter a magical realm that I often struggle to describe. We have lived all over but Spring in Ceredigion, and on the farm, is a marvel.

The Celandines, followed by the Bluebells and Wild Garlic, then comes the Greater Stitchwort and Cow Parsley, the Blackthorn blossom followed by the Apple blossom and then the Hawthorn, this year so laden with blossom that I wonder if the boughs might break under its weight.

The lambs from early spring make way for the giant puppy like bullocks who dance in herds in the meadows, the horses canter around playing in and out of the river like children on a summer’s day.

The light, oh the light, as it weaves in and out of the brand-new leaves, the lime green of the Beech, or the ruddy green of the Oaks. If you lay under a Beech and look to the sky just after the leaves come out you can almost see through them. The light somehow hits a magical, ethereal quality especially in the evening, the sunbeams dancing off the pond, makes way for the bats darting about, in and out of the giant Oak tree.

When standing at the top of the farm watching the sunset with just a tiny smattering of farms and houses in the distance, I have to pinch myself that we really do live here. It is like living in a passage that Auden and Austen might have dreamt up had they been alive at the same time.

Anyway enough of my rambling, what I mean to say is come glamping in Spring, visit Ceredigion in May or June, you do not have to stay with us at Canvas & Campfires, (though you’d be most welcome), stay with friends, pick another one of the amazing tourist businesses, pitch a tent, sleep in the back of your car, just make sure you face West and all will be well.

Paradwys yn y Gwanwyn

Rydyn ni’n byw ym mharadwys. Po hiraf yr ydym yma y mwyaf y gwn ei fod yn wir. Rydyn ni’n cael awgrymiadau ohono trwy’r Gaeaf, pan fydd golau’r haul yn disgleirio ar y rhew neu’r eira. Gall y gaeafau fod yn rhyfeddol, ond fel y bydd pob ffermwr da yn dweud wrthych, mae gaeafau i fod yn galed, ac weithiau maen nhw yn, ond wrth fynd i mewn i’r Gwanwyn, rydym yn mynd i mewn i deyrnas hudol yr wyf yn aml yn cael trafferth ei disgrifio. Rydym wedi byw ym mhobman ond mae’r Gwanwyn yng Ngheredigion, ac ar y fferm, yn rhyfeddod.

Mae’r Llygadlys, ac yna Clychau’r Gog a Garlleg Gwyllt yn blodeuo, yna daw’r Serenllys Mawr a’r Gorthyfail i flodeuo, yn ogystal â’r Ddraenen Ddu ac yna’r Afal a’r Ddraenen Wen. Mae’r Ddraenen Wen eleni mor llwythog o flodau fel fy mod yn meddwl tybed a allai’r brigau dorri o dan ei bwysau.

Mae’r ŵyn o ddechrau’r gwanwyn yn gwneud lle i’r bustych, sydd fel cŵn bach enfawr, yn dawnsio mewn buchesi yn y dolydd, mae’r ceffylau’n hanner carlamu o gwmpas yn chwarae i mewn ac allan o’r afon fel plant ar ddiwrnod o haf.

Y golau, o’r golau, wrth iddo blethu i mewn ac allan o’r dail newydd sbon, gwyrdd llachar y Ffawydd, neu wyrdd gwritgoch y Derw. Os ydych chi’n gorwedd o dan Ffawydden ac yn edrych i’r awyr yn union ar ôl i’r dail ddod allan, gallwch weld drwyddynt bron. Mae’r golau rywsut yn taro ansawdd hudol, ethereal yn enwedig gyda’r nos, y trawstiau haul yn dawnsio oddi ar y pwll, yn gwneud lle i’r ystlumod gwibio o gwmpas, i mewn ac allan o’r goeden dderwen enfawr.

Wrth sefyll ym mhen uchaf y fferm yn gwylio’r machlud gyda dim ond ychydig bach o ffermydd a thai yn y pellter, mae’n rhaid i mi binsio fy hun ein bod ni wir yn byw yma. Mae fel byw mewn darn y gallai Auden ac Austen fod wedi breuddwydio amdano pe baent wedi bod yn fyw ar yr un pryd.

Beth bynnag, digon am fy nghrwydro, yr hyn rwy’n ei olygu i ddweud yw dewch i ymweld â Cheredigion ym mis Mai neu Fehefin, does dim rhaid i chi aros gyda ni yn Canvas & Campfires, (er y byddai croeso mawr i chi), gallwch aros gyda ffrindiau, dewis un arall o’r busnesau twristaidd anhygoel, gosod pabell, cysgu yng nghefn eich car, gwnewch yn siŵr eich bod yn wynebu’r Gorllewin a bydd popeth yn iawn.