From my research notes from December's visit:
Porthmadog, on The Cob, looking towards the mountains.
The arrival of the sky.
The whole sky (the clouds, the light, the mist, the breaks where the blue shows through) moving inland. What are clouds to begin with become ground mist as they reach high ground. Haze clouds hang still over the low tree covered slopes. The sky is mirrored in the marsh water.
The arrival of the sky. The arrival of later’s weather, being delivered here in front of me. The landscape still, waiting. The sky keeping on rolling, sliding, pressing in.
Cold. Fingers numb, dry, but not painful, not yet.
Cloud. Grey. Mist. Grey. Yellow. A break, and blue. Light. Grey. All greys. Cold still.
I'm already starting to be able to see the weather for how it perhaps is...