Solstice at Penmaenmawr
A Thin Place Between Land and Sky
It’s our third summer living on the enchanting Isle of Ynys Môn ([ˈənɨs ˈmoːn])—and I’m proud to call it home. Also known as The Mother of Cymru, this tranquil island on the northwest tip of Wales is as diverse in geology and coastline as it is in the people and nature that thrive here.
There’s an old magic here—a timeless, spiritual energy that runs through the land and sea. It grounds you, restores you. People come here weary, like small boats tossed on turbulent seas, and find themselves again.
Today is the Summer Solstice—and Clair’s birthday. The sun, at its highest, pours light and warmth over everything. We’re grateful for it, and for this day.
We drive over the Menai Strait via the Britannia Bridge, the turquoise coastline to our left as we head east towards Penmaenmawr and the Sychnant Pass, not far from Conwy and the Pensychnant Conservation Centre. At the top of the pass, there’s a small parking area. With our rescue dogs, Harry and Beaux, we cross the lane and pass through an old iron gate—rusted, lovingly crafted, a piece of art in itself. It opens with a metallic sigh, and we follow a meandering path lined with bright purple foxgloves, pink campion, and the sweet, honeyed scent of meadowsweet.
The flowers glow against the green ferns and grasses, their colours softened by the mossed stone walls (cerrig Cymraeg) that cradle butterflies, insects, and wild plants. We pass through a small wood, the canopy thinning as the path rises.
As we climb Penmaenmawr, the land begins to fall away and the sky feels closer. This is what the Celts called a thin place—where the boundary between the earthly and the spiritual feels almost transparent.
After an hour, we stop at a stone circle, ancient and weathered, a resting place of our Neolithic ancestors. We brew tea, sitting among the standing stones in the quiet hum of history.
The air is alive with the low drone of a thousand bees moving through the heather and bilberry. We close our eyes on a smooth grey boulder, breathing in the moment, the hum of life lending itself to meditation.
Penmaenmawr is a place of spectacular coastal and mountain walks, but also of deep human history. From here, stone axes were once shaped in the Neolithic age. Today, it still shapes something—perhaps not tools, but moments of stillness, connection, and gratitude.
Happy Solstice 2024.
