Yet, despite all, there was a surreal if melancholy beauty to the place. This once tourism-fronted seaside town, this once also busy quarry town that has seen better days, is topped by ancient standing stones and open windswept moorlands. The often-quiet hilltops offer solitude and spectacular views, Eryri behind, Anglesey and the Irish Sea in front, a sea quilted with colours and shadows from the vast skies above. I’ve stood at the Druid’s Circle, high on the flat peak and I’ve spoken to the stones, literally, for they listen without judgement and they hear you. I see figures in their form, and in the low wet mists when no one else is around, they will move in the vapour. Up here, high above the shadow-nestled town, it is expansive and liberating, bright even in cloud and with wings you could swoop over the darkness of Pen to the sunlit sea beyond, perhaps in Summer actually catching some warm sun rays which catch the huge sandy beach skirting this shadowy habitation.
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