Earlier this week I awoke to see a field of lost clouds, a huge bank of them, gently swirling in the valley beyond our front window, separated from their brethren who were floating in their rightful places in the sky above the Welsh hills.
It turns out that the proper name for this phenomenon is a frost hollow and they occur regularly in the Brecon Beacons after a chilly, clear night, when cold air drains down the hills in the morning but gets trapped in pockets in the valleys below.
Eventually, the rising sun burns off the mist, but it can take a while and this particular frost hollow lasted the duration of both my first and second breakfasts. Not that I am complaining – it was a natural occurrence of mesmerising beauty which I could have happily sat and watched it all day.
Admittedly, part of me also wanted to run and jump into it, although I now understand that this could have been ill-advised, as temperatures in a frost hollow can be many degrees lower than in the surrounding area, and it was pretty nippy outside anyway. Frost hollows are best admired from a distance.
I’ve been hoping for another one each morning since, but winter isn’t what it used to be and it looks like we’re only going to enjoy one frost hollow before returning to London. Nevermind, we’ll be back..