Discover: Eryri National Park Dark Skies

Darkness is crucial for life on Earth. As a habitat, it is almost extinct in the Western world. Light pollution now blankets much of the globe, with the Milky Way now completely lost to over a third of people. It has serious and wide-reaching impacts, not just blocking our view to the heavens, but spelling catastrophe for our ecosystems and wildlife, of which we are included.  

We say that half the park is after dark. Just because we close our curtains on the world, life out there doesn’t stop living. In fact, more than 70% of our mammals are nocturnal, with many insects, fish and birds also choosing to live their lives by the twinkling lights of the stars.  

A big part of my job is to be a voice for the dark, leading people into the darkness so that they too can fall in love with the night. Many of us have grown to be fearful of the dark, but Prosiect Nos is on a mission to change that.  

On a crystalline February evening, the sun sinks behind Carnedd Llywelyn, as our group slowly grows along with the air of nervous anticipation. Backpacks rustle as clips are clicked closed, well-worn woollen hats are pulled over chilly ears and gloves embrace frosty fingers. Headtorches are passed around as our voices trickle down the valley, words suspended in the air as misty trails. The shadows lengthen and I don my painfully bright hi vis vest – safety first! Recognising the signal, our group falls silent, gathering round in a roughshod horseshoe. Introductions complete, we walk into the fading light along a lonely track, high in the hills of the Carneddau.  

We have special guests, in the form of John Roberts, Park Archaeologist and our Carneddau Project experts; Tara Hall, Sophie Davies and Tom Gould. We are guiding mainly local people, who all know this landscape well, by day, but none had ever experienced it by night. We come to our first checkpoint, Llyn Eigiau. John brings the history to life, explaining how this landscape has been used for over 4,000 years of human history. In the twilight we pick out the ancient cairns from which this range gets its name, constellations of sheepfolds and quarry workings that adorn the hills. The old tramway underfoot leads the history into more modern times and our group further into Cwm Eigiau. Clutches of frogspawn cling to the edges of Llyn Eigiau as a Tawny owls call echoes hauntingly round the Cwm.  

Darkness draws closer and early glimmers of the Universe pierce the sky. Jupiter is first to dazzle, joined by the Plough. My laser pointer-cum-light sabre traces their shapes in the night as I tell the myths and legends of land and sky.  

Our group are bolder now, darkness has settled around them, and they have embraced it like a long-lost friend. Tentative steps transition into confident strides as a stone bothy comes into view, walls hewn from the landscape it is nestled within, warmth flickering from the tiny window welcoming our drovers of darkness.  

Bwthyn Cwm Eigiau has kindly had its weathered door opened to us by the Rugby Mountaineering club. Inside, Sophie is waiting to greet our group with teas and treats. We gather around the table and hear stories about the Carneddau, from Park staff and event goers alike, basking in the heat of the crackling log burner, before embarking back into the depths of the night. 

Stepping from the comforting warmth, the cold is forgotten, pushed from our minds by the magic of a Milky Way splitting the night sky in two. Showing people our home galaxy for the first time always feels special. Our landscapes are laden with the story of human history, but it is the night sky that saw it all unfold. There is so much to discover in the darkness. 

You are the solution to light pollution and together, we can save our skies by adopting dark sky friendly lighting, one bulb at a time.  

Discover more about Dark Skies in Eryri