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Croeso · Welcome

The Morgans at
Pengilfach Cottages

Pengilfach is filling back up with life. We’re restoring Nos. 1 & 2 Pengilfach Cottages and the annexe studio (which still likes to be called No. 3), stone by stone and window by window, to create a safe home to share with our friends and family.

News from Pengilfach

The latest

From the cottages · October 2026

Mushroom weather, and the stove earns its keep

A misty valley below Pengilfach, low cloud rolling across the fields, a lone tree in the foreground just turning gold and amber
A small pale toadstool with a domed cap pushing up through dewy green lawn grass
A close-up of a single pale mushroom on a slender stem among wet blades of grass
A wood-burning stove alight in a pine fireplace with hand-painted bird and flower tiles above, log baskets either side and a kilim rug on the quarry-tiled floor
Cloud settling in the valley, and the first trees on the turn

A proper turn in the weather this week: cooler and a good deal wetter, with cloud sitting low in the valley of a morning. The lawn and the fields have answered at once, and little mushrooms are sprouting everywhere, up overnight and gone again almost as quickly. The hillsides are beginning to colour, too.

The wood-burner has been lit most evenings, earning its keep again after the long dry summer. There has been precious little cottage work done, mind: the social calendar has rather taken over, and we are not complaining.

One to keep an eye on, meanwhile, is T, who has lately become very handy with doors and gates. Every latch, bolt and hinge on the place is now of great interest to him, so the comings and goings need a little more watching than they used to.

From the cottages · October 2026

A last-minute lick of paint

Two test patches of green paint brushed onto a freshly plastered sitting-room wall, beside an old bookcase
The sitting room mid-decoration, a step ladder, paint tray and roller, vacuum and dust sheets on the quarry-tiled floor
Deep matt green paint being rolled onto the lower half of the sitting-room wall, beside the window and bookcase, with a floor lamp and armchairs
Testing greens on the sitting-room wall

A sudden flurry of decorating this week. We have friends coming to stay on Friday night, over for a wedding, so the sitting room at No. 1 is getting a last-minute lick of paint to make it welcoming. After much testing of greens on the wall, we settled on a deep matt Pine Needle Green, which is now going on.

Nothing like a deadline and a few expected guests to finally get a job over the line. It will be good to have the old house full again.

From the cottages · September 2026

Cooler, wetter, and the fire lit again

Virginia creeper, its leaves in fives on reddish stems, scrambling over an old rusted iron garden bench, with Ron resting on the lawn behind
A wood-burning stove alight in the pine fireplace surround at No. 2, with decorative tiles, a kilim rug and log baskets
Virginia creeper scrambling over the old iron bench, ready for a trim

The weather is turning. The long warm spell has given way to cooler, wetter days, and the garden is all the happier for it, growing back green and lush. It does mean a little more TLC is needed again this weekend: the Virginia creeper has made a good bid for freedom over the old iron bench and could do with a trim.

On the cooler side of things, the nights have dipped below 10 °C for the first time since the spring. So the season has properly turned, and we have lit the wood-burner over in No. 2 for the first time in months. Cosy evenings are back.

From the cottages · September 2026

A quiet week: mown grass and starry skies

The freshly mown back lawn at Pengilfach, green and tidy, with the old dry-stone wall, a tree and autumn crocuses along the far edge
A dark night sky above Pengilfach scattered with stars, the faint band of the Milky Way just visible
The back lawn, mown for the first time in a while, greening up nicely

Not much to report this week, and no bad thing. Mostly we’ve been enjoying the valley greening up after the rain, and the grass got its first proper mow in a good while. Simple pleasures.

The clear nights have been the real treat. With no light for miles, the stars come out in their thousands up here, and there have been some wonderful evenings of stargazing, the Milky Way stretched right across the sky.

From the cottages · September 2026

Diggers in the river!

An orange mini-digger working down in the wooded riverbed, dappled sunlight through the trees
Rows of large gravel-filled bags and timber shuttering set into the river to repair the stone retaining walls
The stone tiled roof of the porch at No. 2, the thick carpet of moss cleared off at the first stage, a ladder, broom and trug set out to brush down the stubborn bits
A black-and-tan dog splashing through the shallow, stony river in the sunshine
A dead crayfish laid out on the grey weathered slats of a wooden bench, its two claws detached beside it
A digger down in the river, repairing the retaining walls

A busy weekend, Fred and T set about clearing our mossy stone roofs before winter sets in, with additional runs to the recycling centre hauling rubble and bonfire ash. A little autumn housekeeping.

We also found time to look in on the works at the village / community land, where there are diggers in the river repairing the old stone retaining walls.

Over at the Bullpit meadow in Crickhowell there was proper adventuring: T’s big cousin M found a dead crayfish, very interesting even though he sadly fell apart, and there was much fun with Zeus the cousin’s dog. Biggest cousin F and Aunty A spotted little fish in the river too, and even a heron!

Sunday was spent on the big cargo bike, visiting friends, napping in improbable locations, and taking in Gilfest, the village festival over at Gilwern (one village over). The number one act: a local rapper performing in full chainsaw safety gear!

From the cottages · Bank Holiday weekend, August 2026

A bank-holiday weekend to remember

Villagers gathered in a field for a party, seated in camp chairs and standing in groups under gazebos, woodland behind
A cluster of pink-purple autumn crocuses pushing up through the leaf litter at the base of the old half-ash tree
A buzzard gliding on outstretched wings over the patchwork of fields and woodland in the valley below
The village band “Mid Loaf Crisis” in full swing (video)

A proper bank-holiday weekend, this one. Fred and T had a fine time of it: seeing cousins, getting out and about to enjoy the valley looking green and grateful after all that rain, and putting up T’s official Green Man poster to smarten up his room, which he’s thoroughly pleased with.

Down at the half-ash, the autumn crocuses are sprouting, delicate and pink among the roots, and Buzz has taken to hanging about at the bottom gate, wheeling over the fields below.

The weekend was capped off with a wonderful village party, with live music from the village band “Mid Loaf Crisis.” Special thanks to Ewan, James and Michelle for coming along to support it: raising money for the village land CIC and helping promote our little community. A grand end to the summer.

From the cottages · 28 August 2026

Rain at last, and the land greens up

Dark storm clouds gathering over the parched fields and hedgerows of the valley, rain on its way
A bright rainbow arcing over a street in Abergavenny after the rain, with houses, a street lamp and the hills beyond
A single bright green apple, the first from the No. 2 garden, resting on the slate kitchen worktop
A serving of apple and blackberry pie with fresh cream in a blue-and-white patterned dish
A golden, domed brioche loaf resting on the rack of a breadmaker
A proper stormy sky rolling in over the valley at last

At long, long last: rain has arrived at Llangenny. After the driest summer any of us can remember, the storm clouds rolled in and the ground has drunk it up gratefully. Already the parched brown fields are greening up again, almost as you watch. What a relief, after the fires and the dust.

Indoors, the kitchen has been busy. There was a lovely first this week too: T’s very first apple picked from the garden at No. 2. Emma ably made an apple and blackberry pie with the last of that bumper hedgerow haul, served with lashings of fresh cream, and it was every bit as tasty as Fred and T had hoped. The leftover blackberries, we’re glad to report, made it safely to the big freezer for safekeeping. There was even a brioche loaf out of the breadmaker, a little experiment that turned out rather well.

Our warm thanks to friends of the cottage Ewan and Emma for all their help this week, not least the many happy walks with Ron the dog, who has had a fine time of it.

From the cottages · 25 August 2026

Getting into harvest, and a bumper haul of blackberries

A wooden bowl heaped with glossy foraged blackberries on the kitchen worktop
Emma’s bumper haul of blackberries, in from the hedgerows this morning

A good morning’s work at the cottages: friends of Pengilfach Ewan and Emma are helping us get into the harvest, and Emma came back from the hedgerows with a bumper haul of blackberries, a whole bowl of them, glossy and ripe.

Fred and T are already hoping something really tasty will be made from this. A crumble, perhaps, or jam for the winter… watch this space.

From the cottages · August 2026

Fred & T’s Green Man

A tall red pennant flag — the family camp flag — flying from a pole high above the festival campsite, with a big oak tree and rows of tents below a cloudy sky
Looking out from the top of the Ferris wheel over the festival field, crowds and stalls below and the wooded hills of the valley beyond
The sun setting over the valley and distant hills, framed by the dark leaves of trees on the slope
Our family camp flag, flying above our friends’ tents

The pair had a fine time down at Green Man this year. They spent a good while in the Little Folk area, and marched as part of the Little Folk parade, then it was on to the fairground, for the Ferris wheel and the helter-skelter slide (more than once, we’re told). Our family camp flag flew above our friends’ tents all weekend, though we rather wimped out, putting up a tent but cycling home up the hill each night to our own beds.

The highlight for T: rocking out to Anna Calvi of an evening, with friends of the cottage James and Michelle. Home tired, happy, and full of it, already asking about next year.

These are our own snapshots of our weekend. Pengilfach isn’t connected with, endorsed by, or involved in the organisation of the Green Man festival in any way.

From the cottages · August 2026

Green Man comes to Crickhowell

It’s that time of year again: the Green Man festival returns to Glanusk Park, just down the valley from us, from the 20th to the 23rd of August. For four days the fields fill with music, arts and science under the Bannau Brycheiniog, and the sound of it drifts up the hillside to Pengilfach on the evening air.

Sadly there’ll be no burning of the Green Man this year, and no fireworks either. The continued drought and fire risk have put paid to both, and after the wildfires we’ve watched across the valley, it’s a wise call, if a wistful one.

We’re not part of it, just lucky neighbours who get to hear it roll around the hills, though Fred and T will be down there in the thick of it on the Sunday. If you’re curious, the festival’s own website has all the details: greenman.net.

From the cottages · 12 August 2026

A red eclipse through the smoke

A partial solar eclipse seen as a deep red crescent through a sky thick with wildfire smoke
The eclipsed sun as a bright crescent with a glowing red-orange rim, framed by smoke-lit cloud
A thin crescent of sun with a red rim, deep in the smoky haze
The bright crescent sun during the partial eclipse, softened by smoke
Wide view of the eclipsed sun peeking through heavy smoke-lit clouds over the valley
The eclipsed sun a deep, spectacular red through the wildfire smoke

An extraordinary evening. Yesterday brought a partial solar eclipse, and here it was made all the more remarkable by the pall of smoke still hanging over the valley from the wildfires, which are burning yet. The haze dimmed the sun just enough that the eclipse could be watched with the naked eye, a deep, spectacular red crescent hanging in a copper sky. We have never seen anything quite like it.

It capped the hottest day of the year: our own weather station up at the cottage read a high of 30.1 °C, after a restless, airless night that never dropped below about 22 °C. A strange and beautiful day at the end of a fierce, dry summer.

From the cottages · August 2026

The wildfire on Llangattock mountain

Close view of the wildfire burning along the top of Llangattock mountain, pale smoke rising from several points on the blackened hillside
A blood-orange sun hanging in a sky thick with wildfire smoke, the valley hazed over
Fred and Ewan silhouetted on the Sugarloaf summit at dusk, watching the wildfire smoke lie among the hills across the valley
Smoke rising from the burning hillside above Llangattock

A grim spectacle this week, and a sobering one: a great wildfire took hold on Llangattock mountain, on the far side of the valley. This is climate change in action. After the driest summer we can remember, the hills are tinder. By Saturday the 8th the fire had consumed over 300 hectares, according to the police and fire services, and the smoke filled the whole valley below, veiling the sun to an eerie orange.

We watched it from a safe distance across the valley, and from the Sugarloaf summit at dusk. A beautiful part of the world showing its fragility. As we write, the fires are still burning, and there has been no rain to help. The ground is as parched as ever, and the hills stay tinder-dry.

From the cottages · August 2026

Fire on the mountain

Smoke rising across the valley: a fire on the mountain above Llangattock, on the far side from us

A dramatic sight this week: a great plume of smoke going up from the mountain on the opposite side of the valley, above Llangattock. After such a long, dry summer the hills are tinder, and a fire takes hold in no time. It was well away from us across the valley, but a sharp reminder of how parched the ground has become, and there has still been no rain to break the dry spell.

From the cottages · August 2026

A brief shower, and the valley stirs

A wild rabbit sitting in the grass on the big back lawn at Pengilfach, in front of the old dry-stone wall, seen through a window
One of our regular visitors, out on the big back lawn by the old wall

A brief and very welcome burst of rain this week: water from the sky at last! It didn’t last, and the dry soon returned, but for a day or two it brought out the snails, slugs and toads and frogs in force, very refreshing for all, ourselves included.

The wildlife has been busy besides: more rabbit sightings around the cottages, and no end of buzzards wheeling over the valley. Indoors, visits from old friends and family have helped fill the cracks and chases in the studio at No. 3, and the ceilings are now prepared and ready for skimming.

From the cottages · July 2026

A dry summer, and a reserve supply

Pengilfach is fed by a spring shared with a neighbour, and this summer it has slowed right down to the lowest we’ve known it. So over one weekend we set about putting in a reserve water supply to see the place through the dry spell and keep the everyday jobs ticking over.

The new pump turned out to be a marvel: it filled a 1,000-litre tank in about fifteen minutes, a job that took an hour and a half on a hosepipe from the village mains. There are a few photographs of the work on the gallery page.

From the cottages · July 2026

The annexe studio takes shape

A good Sunday’s work in the annexe studio (the old No. 3): tidying up after the rewire and mending the sliding doors, with the whole valley laid out through the glass. Slowly the little building is becoming a proper room again.

There’s a photograph on the gallery page.

From the cottages · 2026

Stone by stone

The restoration goes on at its own patient pace: a wall repointed here, a window eased there, the garden slowly coming back. We’ll post the news here as the work unfolds, so do look in now and then.

If you’d like the occasional letter from the cottages, you can join the Friends of Pengilfach.

The place

A stone terrace in a green Welsh valley: two cottages under the roof of heavy old stone tiles, a little annexe studio on the end (the old No. 3), and an old half-tree standing guard, the whole place wrapped in native beech, ash, oak and sycamore. It has stood a long time. We intend to make sure it stands a lot longer.

It sits high on the flank of the Sugarloaf — Pen-y-Fal — above Llangenny, looking west across the Grwyne valley to Table Mountain and Pen Cerrig-calch, with Crickhowell a couple of miles down the lane. There are photographs of the view on the gallery page.

The lie of the land

A rough map, not to scale, but all the better for it. The named trees have earned their capitals: the Little Beech, the Uncrowned Oak, the Big Cherry, the Half-ash, and the Scary Ashes guarding the eastern edge. There’s a lawn for playing on and beds to dig, and a little garden at 1e with the view. The toolshed keeps the peace between No. 3 and the rest.

to Llangenny car park the Little Beech the Big Cherry the Uncrowned Oak the lawn the cobbles 3 balcony toolshed & log store 2 1 movie garden the Scary Ashes a little garden · door 1E flower bed herb garden viewing patio the Half-ash the Squat Oak N Crickhowell 2.5 mi Pub · 1 mi Abergavenny 5.6 mi Sugarloaf / Pen-y-Fal 2.15 mi Pengilfach, roughly

The Residents

A small crew, but a determined one.

The restoration ledger

Ticked off as we go. Slowly, honestly, and with a lot of tea.

Solid = done · half-filled = in progress · empty = on the list

The good times so far

It’s not all lime mortar and ladders. Pengilfach Cottages has already hosted its fair share of good times: communal cooking with pots going all day, New Year’s bashes seeing the old year off in style, and outdoor movie nights under the trees with blankets and popcorn. The house is being restored for exactly this, so consider these early rehearsals.