I had been starting to feel like a proper winter; cold, dry air, no winds, several inches of frost into the ground, sunny days and brilliant, starlit nights.
Alas we are now back to the wet, wind and penetrating damp chill.
A few winter-flowering shrubs are making a brave attempt. Winter jasmines gallantly hang on to their bright yellow petals and some daffodils have opened in sheltered corners. They are heartening sights.
The bare trees are now at their most inactive. For me they now hold a special fascination because much of their growth history is told in their stark shapes.
Good growth seasons with long, straight growth steps, poor seasons with stunted, twisted internodes.
Damage from storms and the impacts of human activities are recorded in the scars on their trunks and branches. They can survive extreme conditions, and still manage to grow in waste soils confined between tarmac and walls.
The capacity of trees to absorb damage is impressive. A main strategy is growing new tissues around the wounded site, so the damage is isolated and encapsulated within the tree.
Some types of damage produce bizarre growth patterns. Witches brooming is particularly strange. It manifests as clumps of proliferating side shoots, which look completely out of place on otherwise healthy looking trees.
Witches brooming occurs on birch, cherry, beech and sometimes ash. It also occurs commonly on shrubs such as gooseberry, forsythia and honeysuckle.
The brooming is thought to be caused by physical damage to the growing shoots, which causes a local increase in side-shoots. Possible causes for the damage include aphids, mites and other insects, fungi, bacteria, salt (from roadside spray as well as the sea) and air-borne toxic chemicals.
The amazing shapes into which trees and shrubs can become contorted are worth looking at.
It's worth taking a quick picture of anything unusual. Send it to me at the Herald and we can post it up for others to see.

The start of winter doesn't put me in the best of spirits. Short days, wet, wind and much of nature closing down.
I wait for landmarks such as the shortest day (just over a month to go!); or the first shoots of snowdrops or daffodils pushing through (in sheltered spots they are already several centimetres up!).
This autumn the extent of changes caused by global warming across North Wales are again apparent. Despite the wind, many oaks and beeches still have some green leaves.There are some breathtaking shows of golden brown in some sheltered spots. Wihout any frost the leaf stems are still hanging on.
The year on year extension of plant growth is obvious; fuchsias, mallows and ornamental daisies are still flowering.
The Christmas rose was once a rarity, but they have flowered continually over recent winters. They brighten the start of winter. But plants are wasting their resources producing flowers when there are no insects for pollination, and which therefore serve no useful purpose.
Some crisp, frosty conditions are necessary to kill pests and break up the soil.
The lack of clear-cut seasons, with some summer flowers extending till at least Christmas, overlapping the first daffodils, gives me a sense of wonder.
Much depends on the accurate records of natural events in previous years.
I've kept a fairly full diary over recent years of autumn events on the Western Llyn.
It would be interesting to hear about others keeping records. Notes on any aspect of the seasonal behavior of birds, animals or plants over the years are important.

I couldn't stop thinking about the recent case of the young gamekeeper from Shropshire who was given a prison sentence for his systematic extermination of wildlife. According to the courtroom reports provided by the RSPB, he was obsessed in protecting his hand-reared pheasants and partridges for a wealthy shooting organisation.
Everything living, apart from his game birds, was deemed vermin. This included ravens, buzzards, badgers and others, in addition to the conventional rabbits, foxes and crows. The animals and birds were shot, snared, trapped and sometimes bludgeoned to death.
I looked in my dictionary: Vermin is a collective name for insects, small animals, or birds which are troublesome, destructive or carry diseases for domestic stock, crops or game.
Invasive weeds are sometimes considered similarly. The name vermin is not strictly correct for plants, but the same feelings are felt by gardeners and horticulturalists.
The more I listen to peoples' feelings the bigger and more complicated the issue gets.
Much depends on how people make a living. For many dairy and cattle farmers badgers are a potential problem because they may spread bovine tuberculosis; to hill and arable farmers gorse stifles potential pasture; for sea fisherman seals raid and damage nets; spider crabs waste time for lobster fishermen; otters eat the anglers' fish; for the landscape gardener moles and weeds such as the Japanese knotweed cause despair; for the property developer trees are in the way; to the sheep farmer the increased numbers of buzzards and ravens are a threat. The list of examples is very, very long.
Traditionally the gamekeeper would control foxes, rats, crows and magpies. But in the upsetting case of the gamekeeper described above, the 'control' included more or less anything which moved which was not a pheasant or partridge.
Some animals and plants are more generally disliked and are treated as nuisances by most town and country dwellers regardless of occupation. Rats, mice, pigeons, crows and even sparrows and starlings are common targets. Nettles are a problem to all.
Added to this are our personal and emotional likes and dislikes. Sometimes these are extreme.
The official terms for these extremes are phobia (excessive and unreasoning dislike) and mania (excessive fondness). Referring to the dictionary again, there are a least a dozen of each category.
Some are well known, such as arachnophobia (fear of spiders). There are individuals who have a fear of all animals (zoophobia; zoophilia, the opposite, describes those with an obsessive love of all animals).
Others seem bizarre; ophidomania is an extreme liking for reptiles, helminthophobia is a panicky hatred of worms!
Psychologists have all sorts of theories for the causes behind the extremes, often blaming childhood experiences.
In the conversations the issue of numbers seems all important; 'There are too many rabbits along that cliff', or 'All those magpies have pushed away the song thrushes' and so on.
And it strikes me that here lies a common truth. It's a numbers game. For each and everyone, livelihoods, experiences and emotional makeup will influence how many (and how close!) are ok before an animal may feel a nuisance.
Fortunately there are now strong legislative powers, involving the RSBB, RSPCA and others to set the limits and control them.
For me annoyance can come after simply watching. A flock of sparrows descends on the bird feeder; the blue tit is pushed aside and gets angry (as in the picture alongside). Or a cat springs out of nowhere, scattering the birds. But there's not much to be done about it!
There are amazing stories why we may love or loathe different parts of the natural world around us. I plan to talk about some of these over the coming months.
So it would be great to hear and share any special feelings about why any animals, birds or plants attract a special like, or dislike!

Some mornings I feel upset by the bedraggled state of this summers' wildlife. A group of pheasants grubbing their way along a mud-fringed hedgerow; sparrows, blue tits and blackbirds with tails and flight feathers shabby after another nights blustering rain which has driven into their overnight shelters; a few brown butterflies being blown about with frayed wings.
Even the sturdy oaks, chestnuts and sycamores for several weeks have been suffering unusual patterns of premature dieback, brought on by strong winds, wet and lack of sunlight. Much of nature is giving up on this summer, probably the worst since records were begun. Last summer is now the close second.
But its no use letting personal opinions influence what we see going on. Nature simply doesn't recognize anything to do with human feelings. Instead most wildlife is coldly indifferent to anything but the simple rules of survival and successful breeding.
So I was gladdened to come across some ramblers crossing the Llôn Goed in a swirling mist. Their laughter could be heard miles away. Out of the city for a few days, their main focus was collecting mushrooms.
I was given a glimpse inside a knapsack. Brilliant colours, amazing shapes, and they assured me, their evening feast.
The traditional autumn fruiting season for mushrooms and most other fungi has radically altered over recent years. First sightings begin in June and they continue till December.
This is because of the wet summers and warmer, frost-free autumns.
Fungi live underground. They have vast subterranean networks, which have special relationships with the roots of trees and plants, supplying them with nutrients. The mushroom or fruiting body is a tiny, seasonal part whose job is to pop above ground and spread spores into the wind. They love our wet, warm, twilight weather.
And they also like soil which has been undisturbed for a long time. Woodland, churchyards, cemeteries and old, mossy pastures are their havens.
So North Wales is a happy place for toadstools and toadstool lovers.
I've never been especially fond of their tastes and find most of them to be on the verge of edibility. By myself I wouldn't feel confident enough to be sure I had got the right identification.
But I am always drawn to their fascinating shapes, beautiful colours and amazing overnight appearances.
The picture shows a couple of sudden appearances at the back of our house. At first glance I thought they were a couple of aliens, just landed.
Some one told me that these large fruiting bodies were good to eat when sliced up and cooked in olive oil. Then another said they would give a bad stomach!
Can anyone help about whether these are ok to eat?

I often wonder where my interests in wildlife came from.

I remember clearly, about six years old, scrambling amongst seaside rocks, paddling in rock pools, engrossed in the fantastic shapes, colours and richness of underwater life. The sudden shapes darting into hiding; then with apprehension using a cautious finger to tease out the little aliens.

The tin bucket holding the day's catch had to be left outside our cottage, but I always managed to peer at them again before bedtime. Alas the fast movers like shrimps were dead the next day, but the slow moving life in shells, like the winkles were ok and could be returned to their home on the shore.

Further into childhood it was butterflies, moths, beetles and more or less any insect that could be kept in a matchbox. Then it was flowers, all shapes, sizes and colours carefully pressed and dried between sheets of blotting paper.
I was always in trouble for wandering off and being late to get home.

My middle years of family and career left little time for indulgence in nature, although there were joyous moments with our children on country holidays. Today my young grandchildren remind me of the sense of pure wonder which happen when a child is encouraged to chance upon a new flower or insect. They also show vividly that curiosity and affinity for wildlife is, for most, a part of being human.

The difficulty is maintaining the interest when there are so many alternatives provided by the visual and digital media worlds, all available from the armchair!
In recent years I have been lucky to resume closeness with nature. I've realised that many crucial issues are less obvious and subtle; the smallest and ugliest forms of life can be the most important.

I have been fortunate to be able to talk about many topics in the Grass Roots pages of the Caernarfon and Denbigh Herald and Holyhead and Anglesey Mail; and I am privileged to begin their website section on wildlife for the same readers.

The lands of Anglesey Llyn and Snowdonia are rural. They contain an extremely rich variety of habitats and wildlife, which for many of us is within easy walking distance.
This website is for us to share our feelings and experiences on things going on in the natural world around us, and the changes with seasons and altered climate.

Every few weeks I shall be chatting about things which strike me of interest. It's up to everyone to contact the website with any topics, worries or questions about what's happening to the life around us.
There's an amazing amount of things to discuss. At first it would be good to hear any stories about why one got interested (or put off!) wildlife, especially in childhood.