In search of sundews …..

Normally, G’s aversion to crowds of summer tourists means he would not even consider a trip into the mountains on a Sunday, but his quest for cheaper fuel means a trip to the small independent garage near Llanberis boasting ‘Cheapest Fuel in the Area!’ . I’ve given up arguing that the fuel consumed in getting there far outweighs any savings, and besides, it’s a beautiful journey on this glorious September day. 

We’ve no intention of stopping at any of Eryri’s honeypots - and just as well considering the lack of parking. We pass cars jammed into every available space along the mountain roads, people  noting the tow-away signs so at least there’s no on-road parking. Instead, we’re heading for a new adventure - a trip to Cors Bodgynydd. 

This Wildlife Trust reserve is situated high in the wilds of Gwydir Forest, a wetland  created when water levels were raised artificially in the nineteenth century to supply water for the mining industry. Lead and zinc were first mined here in 1625, spoil heaps and mineshafts still being visible today. Not for the first time, I’m struck by the sheer beauty of these industrial locations - not that the workers would have time to appreciate this of course. 

We’ve passed this reserve many times on our way to Llyn Geirionedd, never knowing it was there, and today we’re the only car in its tiny car park, everyone else on the road is heading for the lake. As soon as we’re through the wooden kissing gate we find ourselves in an enchanting world of wild flowers, butterflies and dragons. The views over to its two small lakes are stunning, waters mirror-calm and backed by mountains. Heather and gorse bloom brightly, and swathes of blue devil-bit scabious  bring clouds of blue amidst the green of grasses. Besides our path lie areas of fen and bog littered with brightly coloured mats of sphagnum mosses, and the orange plumes of bog asphodel rise from tightly packed reed islands. Bilberries grow ungathered in this pristine location, and all is silence but for the cries of red starts and the sound of running streams. 

I’ve come in search of sundew, and for a while I just can’t spot any. I’ve only seen it once before, up in the Flow Country of Scotland’s northern tip, and I’ve forgotten just how small it is. Then my eyes focus on the reddish tinge amongst the sphagnum greens and I can just make out the tiny dew-edged leaves of this magical little plant. Close inspection reveals the rosettes of tendril-bearing oval leaves, each thread topped with a bead of dewy moisture - beautiful but deadly. These alien-like miniatures lure insects to their sweetness, trapping and embracing them before devouring. Gruesome  they may be, but I just love them and their other-worldly beauty. 

It’s an easy walk - mostly flat and not too far, but still it’s probably further than I’m really up to, so the return is harder. Still, there’s so much to watch and admire - not least a glimpse of some Carneddau ponies, brought into the reserve to help rewild the land.  

Back in the car, I’m feeling drained by this mini-adventure, but I’ve loved every moment. And once I’m home, my good intentions to catch up on all your journals before I go to bed are once more put on hold. 

My main’s a close up of a broad leaved sundew growing amongst sphagnum moss which gives a sense of scale - each leaf is just so tiny! In extras, there’s a sundew collage and another of some of the flora found, together with some Cors Bodgynydd views. 


And if you want to know more about the sundews, there’s this link: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLHLQ_kFEVM