The Magic of Mynydd Parys

Parys Mountain

Copper, History, and Golden Light

The ancient copper mine at Parys Mountain is steeped in history. Once the largest copper mine in the world, it is now a place of rugged beauty — a perfect canvas for fine art landscape photography.

I set out from my home in the small village of Dwyran on a crisp winters day. The sky was a flawless blue, and the low winter sun swept a golden glow across the Isle of Anglesey. The air felt still, as if holding its breath for the day ahead.

Ynys Môn, as the island is known in Welsh, is largely flat, stitched together by narrow, winding lanes that weave through fields and farmsteads. Twenty minutes into my journey north, the horizon shifted — a solitary tower appeared, standing proud against the burnt-orange hues of the old copper landscape.

By the time I arrived, the day was slipping into its quieter hours. The walk from the van was easygoing, a steady incline through open ground. This is the sort of place where people bring their dogs for a ramble, families stroll together, or lone wanderers come to seek a little solace. The sea glimmers in the distance, and the wind carries the faint tang of salt.

At the summit, the tower stood like a giant sandcastle, weathered but resolute. The golden rays of the setting sun caught its edges, casting sharp silhouettes against the skyline. From here, the views stretched all the way to the peaks of Eryri, where the last light of the day lingered — a final, fleeting brushstroke across a landscape steeped in time.

Through the lens of my camera, I watched the dance of light and shadow play across the ancient copper slopes. The warmth of the colours — deep ochres, burnt oranges, and gold — felt like the very heartbeat of Mynydd Parys. In that moment, the mountain was not just a subject, but a performer, bathed in its own magic.