Tonight, at the firepit at the heart of the forest, I take you north to the dark and beautiful countryside of Yorkshire, and to an old legend surrounding Swinsty Hall.

It is the story of a poor man who returned from plague-ridden London with a fortune in gold — wealth taken from the houses of the dead.

But gold carries memories.

And when guilt began to trouble him, he found a lonely spring and started to wash his stolen treasure in its cold waters.

They say he never stopped.

Even now, when the mist gathers amongst the trees and the last light disappears from the hills, some say a figure can still be seen beside the water…

washing the gold.

A tale of greed, guilt, ghosts and a debt that even death could not repay.

Come closer to the fire, my friends.

Leave the world behind for a while.

And listen…

to The Gold That Would Not Be Washed Clean.

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In this episode of Time between Times, I take you deep into the lonely mountains of Cardiganshire and the tragic story of Catrin Gwyn — a young woman who vanished during a storm in 1705, leaving behind nothing but a fragment of red cloth beside a lonely bog.

But Catrin’s story did not end there.

They said she returned as White Catti of the Grove Cave, a pale figure seen amongst the mist and ruined shepherd’s cottages, leading travellers towards the river and the darkness.

And somewhere in those mountains, they say, she may still be walking.

So come closer to the fire, leave the worries of the day behind, and listen carefully…

Because if you hear footsteps following you through the mist…

whatever you do, don’t look back.

Time between Times storytelling with Owen Staton

⁠www.welshstoryteller.com⁠

Welsh Storyteller Support me on Ko-fi

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Join me on Patreon

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Take care, my friends.

Owen x

Tonight, we step into the darkness of an old Welsh house where stones appeared from nowhere, potatoes flew through the air and a great wooden table was hurled against the ceiling.

But what was haunting Hafod Uchtryd?

Come closer to the fire and enter the strange and unsettling world of Bwgan yr Hafod — one of Wales’ most extraordinary tales of the supernatural.

Leave your worries behind, my friends… and listen carefully.

Time between Times storytelling with Owen Staton

Listen wherever you get your podcasts
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In this episode of Time between Times, I bring you two unsettling tales from the old roads of Glamorgan.

A man walking between Bridgend and Cardiff who suddenly finds himself carrying something he cannot see…

And a young girl from the Neath area who realises that something strange is following her home through the darkness.

Two encounters.

Two lonely roads.

And two things that perhaps should never have been there.

So come and sit with me at the firepit at the heart of the forest, leave the worries of the day behind and listen carefully…

Because sometimes, my friends, the footsteps behind us aren’t our own.

Time between Times storytelling with Owen Staton

⁠www.welshstoryteller.com⁠

Buy me a Ko-fi

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Become a Patreon

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Find Time between Times wherever you listen to podcasts.

Thank you, as always, for coming and sitting beside the fire with me.

Take care, my friends.

Owen

x

Something once walked the dark roads around Tondu…

In this chilling episode of Time between Times, I tell the extraordinary story of the Tondu Spectre — a terrifying, death-like figure said to have appeared in 1904 and physically attacked a man on a lonely road.

Was it a ghost, a hoax, or something far stranger?

I’m also joined by writer and researcher Rachel Taylor, who has been researching the ghosts and haunted history of Bridgend. Together we delve into the stories, places and folklore that have given this corner of South Wales such a rich supernatural history.

Turn down the lights…

Come closer to the fire…

And listen carefully.

Because in the darkness around Tondu…

something was waiting.

Welcome to the Time between Times, my friends.

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Rachel Taylor’s Substack . Hauntings and history

Hauntings and History's Substack

My personal Substack

This one whispers.

In this episode of Time between Times, I take you to the old village of Marford in North Wales, where the restless spirit of Margaret Blackbourne is said to have wandered the darkness after her terrible death.

They called her Lady Blackbird.

And people began to hear something at their windows…

Tap.

A pause.

Tap.

A story of murder, old houses, candlelit rooms and a ghost who doesn’t scream or rattle chains.

She simply waits outside.

And if you hear her knocking…

whatever you do, don’t knock back.

🎙️ Time between Times storytelling with Owen Staton🌐 Welshstoryteller.com⁠☕ Support me on Ko-fi⁠❤️ Join me on Patreon⁠

Buy Owen a Ko-fi

⁠www.ko-fi.com/owenstaton⁠

Become a patreon

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Tickets for The Ghost light at Pontardawe Arts centre on the 28th of October 2026

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Tickets for The Ghost Light at Ystradgynlais Welfare Hall 29th October 2026

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Take care my Friends

Nos da

Owen

x

What happens when two storytellers from opposite sides of the Atlantic meet to talk about one of the world’s greatest mysteries?

In this very special episode of Time between Times storytelling with Owen Staton, I am joined by Natalie Huber Rodriguez, host of the Monster

s podcast, for a fascinating journey into the world of Bigfoot and Sasquatch.

But this isn’t simply a conversation about whether Bigfoot exists.

We delve much deeper.

Together, Natalie and I explore the cultural, spiritual and folkloric significance of Bigfoot, looking at the very different ways this mysterious figure has found a place in the traditions and stories of Wales and among the Indigenous peoples of North America.

What does it mean when generations of people tell stories about a mysterious figure living beyond the edge of civilisation?

Why do stories of wild, human-like beings appear in cultures separated by thousands of miles?

And perhaps most importantly…

why do these stories still matter to us?

Natalie brings her own perspective and experiences, while I explore the Welsh connection and the mysterious figure of Y Brenin Llwyd — the Grey King, a shadowy being associated with the mountains, forests and mist of Wales.

And, of course, this is Time between Times…

So we don’t just talk about the stories.

We tell them.

Both Natalie and I share a tale associated with Bigfoot, allowing two very different storytelling traditions to meet around the same fire.

What follows is a lively, thoughtful and sometimes wonderfully spooky conversation about folklore, belief, wilderness, spirituality, storytelling and our own personal fascination with these mysterious beings.

Perhaps Bigfoot is a creature.

Perhaps he is a legend.

Perhaps he is something older — something that lives in the space between the known world and the wild places beyond it.

Whatever you believe…

there is something strangely powerful about standing at the edge of a forest and wondering whether you are truly alone.

So come and sit with us for a while.

Listen to the stories.

Listen to the conversation.

And perhaps, when you next walk beneath the trees…

you might find yourself looking a little more carefully into the shadows.

Because sometimes the oldest stories are the ones that refuse to disappear.

And sometimes…

the things we are searching for…

have been watching us all along.

Welcome to another journey into the Time between Times.

There are places where history is remembered.

And then there are places where it feels as though history is still happening.

The Tower of London is one of those places.

For almost a thousand years, its ancient stones have witnessed coronations, imprisonments, betrayal, torture and death. Kings and queens have passed through its gates. Prisoners have climbed its staircases knowing they would never return. Children have disappeared into its darkness. And countless lives have ended beneath its shadow.

And perhaps some of those stories never truly ended.

In this very special episode of Time Between Times, I take you into the darkness of the Tower of London and explore some of its most chilling ghost stories.

The restless spirit of Anne Boleyn.

The mysterious ghosts of the Princes in the Tower.

The tragic apparition of Lady Jane Grey.

The terrifying phantom bear said to have appeared near the Jewel House.

And the extraordinary account of a Yeoman Warder who felt something touch the back of his neck inside the ancient Salt Tower.

But there is another reason this episode is particularly personal to me.

Because while visiting the White Tower, I experienced something I still cannot explain.

Walking upon one of its ancient staircases, I suddenly felt someone breathing directly beside my ear.

I turned.

There was nobody there.

Perhaps it was nothing.

Perhaps there was a perfectly ordinary explanation.

But standing inside a building with almost a thousand years of history behind it, surrounded by stories of people who supposedly never quite left...

it was difficult not to wonder.

What if some places remember?

What if certain moments become so deeply embedded within the stones that they refuse to disappear?

And what if, every now and then...

the living happen to walk through them?

So tonight, my friends, draw your chair a little closer to the fire.

Let the lights grow dim.

Listen carefully to the silence.

And come with me into the ancient darkness of the Tower of London.

Because perhaps the ghosts of the Tower aren’t waiting for us to find them.

Perhaps...

they have simply learned to wait.

Welcome...

to Time Between Times.

Support the podcast & help keep the fire burning

Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/owenstaton

Patreon: Join me on Patreon

Substack — stories, folklore & writing: Owen’s Substack

Owen’s website: WelshStoryteller.com

Listen to Time Between Times: Apple Podcasts · Spotify

If you enjoy the episode, please follow the podcast, leave a review and share it with someone who loves folklore, history, ghost stories and the darker corners of the past.

And remember...

if you ever find yourself climbing those ancient stairs inside the White Tower...

listen carefully.

You never know what might be listening back.

Take care, my friends.

Nos da.

Owen x

#TimeBetweenTimes #TowerOfLondon #GhostStories #AnneBoleyn #PrincesInTheTower #LadyJaneGrey #HauntedUK #BritishFolklore #GhostStory #ParanormalPodcast #WelshStoryteller #OwenStaton

There are some places where the darkness seems to begin long before the sun has gone down…

And beneath the beautiful towers of Castell Coch, high above the Taff Valley, there is said to be a darkness that has been waiting for centuries.

An ancient passage.

A forgotten treasure.

A great iron chest filled with gold and precious things.

And guarding it…

Two enormous eagles.

In this new episode of Time Between Times, I take you beneath the mountain and into one of the strangest legends associated with Castell Coch.

It is a story of buried treasure, secret tunnels, a ghostly Cavalier who walks through the walls, and two supernatural guardians whose eyes burn in the darkness.

Men have supposedly entered the passage in search of the treasure.

Some carried weapons.

Others carried silver bullets blessed by a priest.

None, according to the old tale, were prepared for what they found waiting in the darkness.

Because perhaps the treasure was never meant to be found.

Perhaps something was placed there to make certain that it never would be.

So tonight, draw your chair a little closer to the fire.

Let the wind move through the trees.

Let the shadows gather around you.

And listen carefully…

Because somewhere beneath Castell Coch, in a passage that may or may not exist, an ancient iron chest may still be waiting.

And beside it…

Two enormous wings may still be folded in the darkness.

Waiting.

My website: ⁠welshstoryteller.com⁠

Buy me a Ko-fi and help keep the fire burning: ⁠www.ko-fi.com/owenstaton⁠

Join me on Patreon for extra stories and support the podcast: ⁠www.patreon.com/owenstaton7⁠

If you enjoy the story, please follow the podcast, leave a review and share it with someone who loves Welsh folklore, ghosts and tales from the darker corners of our landscape.

And if you ever find yourself walking beneath Castell Coch after dark…

listen carefully.

You never know what might be listening back.

Nos da, my friends.

Owen x

#TimeBetweenTimes #WelshFolklore #CastellCoch #WelshGhostStories #WelshLegends #GhostStories #Folklore #ParanormalPodcast #WelshStoryteller #OwenStaton

This weeks Time between Times podcast take us to the wilds of north Wales and Bryn Ellyllon where almost two hundred years ago something was discovered which still fills all who see it with Wonder .

In the year 1833, a group of workmen were digging in a rocky field near Mold in North Wales when they made a discovery that would send ripples through the world of archaeology — and perhaps through the world of the supernatural too.

The field was known locally as Cae Ellyllon — the Field of the Goblins.

Even before the men had broken the earth, there had been something unsettling about the place.

As they trudged along the lonely roads towards the field, carrying their tools beneath the pale Welsh sky, they had listened to the stories told by local villagers. Stories of strange sightings. Of things glimpsed among the stones. Of a presence that had been seen upon the hill for generations.

The locals had warned them not to linger there after sunset.

For this was no ordinary field .

For generations, there had been tales of something strange and sinister that appeared there — something that seemed to guard the hill and, perhaps, the mysterious underground kingdom that was believed to lie beneath it.

And perhaps, as the workmen walked towards Cae Ellyllon that morning, some of them wondered whether the old stories might actually be true.

The Golden Ghost of Cae Ellyllon

Three years before the workmen made their astonishing discovery, the Welsh antiquarian Angharad Llwyd had travelled through the area and recorded stories of the strange guardian said to haunt the hill.

It was said to be a huge spectral warrior, clad entirely in gold.

At certain times, the figure would appear upon the mound of stones at the centre of the field, standing silently against the landscape and staring towards the distant horizon.

He was said to have been enormous — more than eight feet tall — with long, dark hair and an ageless face.

And although terrifying in appearance, he was never described as violent.

He simply stood there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Silent

Serene

Always looking towards the north, as though expecting someone to come over the horizon.

Those brave enough to approach him were said to receive the slightest of acknowledgements — a slow, almost imperceptible nod of the head.

But there were very few who were willing to get close enough to discover whether the stories were true.

The tales of the golden guardian stretched back through generations, and some local people believed that he was the protector of an entrance to another world.

An entrance hidden beneath the mound of stones.

Some villagers claimed that the stones had been deliberately placed there many years before, sealing an opening into Annwn, the mysterious otherworld of Welsh legend.

It was said that the Tylwyth Teg, the Fair Folk, could emerge from beneath the hill at twilight and wander into the human world, bringing mischief and strange happenings with them.

And so, the entrance had been covered.

The stones remained.

And the guardian watched.

Llwyd recorded these stories in her writings, noting that they were not merely ancient tales repeated for amusement. Many of the local people genuinely believed them.

Some even claimed to have seen the golden figure themselves.

And then, in 1833, the workmen arrived.

They were not men from the surrounding villages. They had no deep knowledge of the old traditions of the place. What they knew of the supernatural stories surrounding Cae Ellyllon came largely from conversations in taverns and from the nervous gossip of the villagers.

Again and again, they were given the same warning.

“Be away from the field before the sun goes down”.

And on that particular day, as afternoon slowly surrendered to evening and the shadows began to lengthen across the field, the men made their extraordinary discovery.

They were digging in precisely the place where the apparition had supposedly been seen.

One of the workmen moved a stone.

Then another.

And beneath them, hidden in the darkness of the earth, something caught the light.

For a moment, he thought perhaps it was simply a reflection.

Then he realised that the earth itself seemed to be shining.

There, beneath the stones, was something that none of them could possibly have expected.

A golden cape.

Wrapped around the remains of a huge, long-dead skeleton.

A man who had lain beneath that soil for thousands of years.

The workmen stumbled backwards in shock.

Perhaps, in that moment, the old stories came rushing back to them.

The guardian.

The golden warrior.

The spirit who had stood upon the mound and stared towards the horizon.

Had they somehow uncovered the resting place of the very being that had haunted the field?

Whatever they believed, they were sufficiently frightened to leave the site.

They would not return until their foreman was present and the orgsnisers of the work were called .

And when dawn came, they began the careful excavation of the ancient remains.

Then they saw the cape properly.

And what a sight it must have been.

After thousands of years beneath the earth, the gold still seemed to glow in the morning sunlight.

It was as though something born in darkness had suddenly been returned to the light.

For millennia, it had known nothing but soil, stone and silence.

And now, for the first time in thousands of years, sunlight touched its surface and its warmth was felt.

The workmen gathered around it, staring in wonder.

For this was no ordinary piece of treasure.

It was a masterpiece.

A Bronze Age cape, hammered from a single sheet of gold.

Delicate.

Extraordinary.

Almost impossibly beautiful.

A piece of craftsmanship created by people who lived thousands of years ago, long before the castles, churches and towns that we recognise today had ever existed.

And yet somehow, this magnificent object had survived.

It was eventually taken away from Cae Ellyllon and transported to London, where it remains today in the British Museum.

There, behind glass and beneath the lights of the modern world, people can stand before it and marvel at something that was created in an age almost beyond our comprehension.

But there is something about that which has always troubled me.

Why is the cape in London?

Why is this object, which spent thousands of years beneath the earth of North Wales, not still in the landscape from which it came?

This was not simply an ornament.

It must have been an object of enormous ceremonial importance. Something worn by an individual of considerable status. Something that belonged to the people who lived upon this land thousands of years ago.

And yet today, it sits far from the field in which it was discovered.

For many years there have been calls for the cape to return to North Wales, and for a museum or permanent exhibition to be created near Mold where people could see it in the landscape to which it belongs.

But those calls remain unanswered.

And perhaps that is why, whenever I think about the Gold Cape of Mold, my thoughts always return to Cae Ellyllon.

Because the story does not really end with the discovery.

Perhaps that is where it begins.

The Field of the Goblins

Cae Ellyllon remains a remarkable place.

There is something about the landscape that seems to hold an edge of darkness.

An atmosphere.

A sense that the ordinary world and something older exist there side by side.

And perhaps that is why the old stories refuse to disappear.

There are still whispers of the Tylwyth Teg.

There are still stories of strange occurrences.

And some wonder whether the disturbance of the earth — the removal of the stones and the excavation of the field — somehow reopened something that had been closed for generations.

Perhaps beneath the hill there really was once a passage into Annwn.

A kingdom beneath the earth where rivers run with gold and where magic moves through the darkness like a living thing.

Perhaps.

And then there are the stories of the music.

People have spoken of strange sounds heard after darkness has fallen.

Voices with no visible source.

A distant singing that seems to rise from the landscape itself.

And the song, they say, is not a joyful one.

It is sombre.

Mournful.

A lament that seems to drift across the darkness, carried upon the night air.

Those who have heard it have described an overwhelming sadness.

Some have even been moved to tears.

And sometimes I wonder whether that song is a call.

A call from the land itself.

A lament for something that was taken away.

Something that belonged here.

Something that was carried across the border of Wales and placed in a distant museum.

What would the land say if it could speak?

What would the stones remember?

And what would happen if the Gold Cape of Mold were ever returned to the place where it slept for thousands of years?

Would the field fall silent?

Would the singing stop?

Or would something beneath the earth finally awaken?

And then there is the question of the golden guardian.

The figure who once stood upon the mound, looking silently towards the horizon.

Since the discovery in 1833, there have apparently been no further sightings of him.

He simply disappeared.

Perhaps he had been waiting all those years for the return of the person who wore the cape.

Perhaps the excavation disturbed him.

Perhaps, like so many figures from Welsh folklore, he simply stepped back across the thin veil between our world and the otherworld.

Or perhaps he was never there at all.

But I find myself wondering about that.

Because if the golden figure really was the guardian of that ancient resting place, what happened to him when the stones were moved?

Where did he go?

And why did he stop watching?

Perhaps his work was finished.

Perhaps he had guarded that ancient place for centuries, waiting for the moment when the earth would finally give up its secret.

And perhaps, when the cape was lifted into the light, he simply turned away.

And walked into the darkness.

I have never visited Cae Ellyllon.

But I confess that I would very much like to.

I would like to stand there as evening begins to fall, when the light fades from the fields and the ordinary sounds of the day slowly disappear.

I would like to listen.

To the wind.

To the silence.

To whatever whispers might still linger amongst the stones.

Because somewhere beneath that Welsh earth lies the memory of a world almost completely lost to us.

A world of Bronze Age people.

Of ancient ceremonies.

Of forgotten beliefs.

Of gods and spirits and stories passed from one generation to another.

And perhaps, somewhere in the twilight, the golden guardian is still there.

Still standing upon his mound.

Still looking towards the horizon.

Still waiting.

Waiting for the return of something that was taken from his land thousands of years ago.

And perhaps, if one day the Gold Cape of Mold were finally returned to Cae Ellyllon, placed once more beneath those ancient stones and given back to the earth from which it came…

Perhaps then we would discover whether the stories were ever really just stories.

And perhaps, just perhaps, the guardian would finally turn his head.

And come home.

Take care my friends there is magic on our doorsteps

Owen x

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Places where the stories seem to have settled into the landscape itself… where an old name, a lonely field or a strange tale passed down through generations can make us wonder what might have happened there long ago.

In this episode of Time Between Times, I take you to a field near Mold in North Wales once known as Cae Ellyllon — The Field of the Goblins or Fairies.

For generations, local people spoke of a mysterious golden figure seen standing upon an ancient burial mound. A strange, glittering apparition appearing in the darkness…

And then, in 1833, workmen digging in that very field uncovered something extraordinary.

Beneath the earth lay an ancient Bronze Age burial — and with it one of the most remarkable archaeological discoveries ever made in Wales.

A magnificent ceremonial cape made almost entirely from gold.

The Mold Gold Cape.

But what makes this story so fascinating is the question that sits between folklore and history.

Why was this particular place associated with a golden apparition long before the ancient burial was uncovered?

Was the ghost simply a story that grew around an ancient mound?

Or was something much older somehow remembered in the folklore of the people who lived there?

Tonight, draw your chair a little closer to the fire and come with me into the darkness of Cae Ellyllon.

A story of gold, ghosts, ancient burial, memory and the extraordinary ways in which the past can sometimes refuse to remain buried.

Welcome, my friends…

to Time Between Times.

🌙 If you enjoy the podcast and would like to help keep these old stories alive:

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/owenstaton

❤️ Patreon: patreon.com/owenstaton7

📜 Substack: owenstaton.substack.com

🌿 Website: welshstoryteller.com

You can also find Time Between Times Storytelling with Owen Staton wherever you listen to podcasts.

Subscribe now

Thank you, as always, for coming and sitting beside the fire with me.

Take care, my friends.

Nos da.

Owen x

Welcome back to the firepit at the heart of the forest, my friends.

Tonight’s story is a little different.

Because this is not simply a tale I found in an old book or discovered in some forgotten newspaper. This is a story that takes me back to my own childhood, to the village of Pontrhydyfen in the Afan Valley in the early 1980s.

I was at school there when rumours began to spread about something strange moving through the hills around Tonmawr and Pontrhydyfen.

A great cat.

Something wild.

Something that, according to the stories, had no business being there.

For us children, the creature quickly became the talk of the playground. We whispered about sightings, footprints and enormous cats hiding in the woods. And at times, we were even told not to play outside.

I remember the feeling of looking towards those dark Welsh hills and wondering what might be hiding amongst the trees.

Decades later, reports from the period would tell of large cats seen around Tonmawr, including a remarkable series of alleged photographs. Some witnesses believed they had seen a leopard or puma. Others suggested more ordinary explanations.

But perhaps the truth isn’t quite the point.

Because when you are a child, a mystery can become part of the landscape itself.

And sometimes, long after the story has faded from the playground, you can still look towards those hills and remember…

What if it really was there?

So tonight, draw a little closer to the fire.

Let the mist settle over the Afan Valley.

Listen for the river beneath the old bridge.

And keep your eyes on the dark hills above Pontrhydyfen…

Because somewhere out there, perhaps, something is still watching.

Welcome…

to the Time Between Times.

Nos da, my friends.

Owen

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x

There are places where the veil between worlds grows thin…

High above Merthyr Tydfil, the ruined walls of Morlais Castle have watched the centuries drift by. Yet local people have long whispered that, on certain midsummer nights, music can still be heard echoing among the ancient stones. A harp. A fiddle. Laughter carried upon the wind. They say those who follow the melody may find themselves welcomed into a dance unlike any other—a dance where joy is boundless, the night never seems to end… and time itself begins to lose all meaning.

In this haunting episode of Time Between Times, Welsh storyteller Owen Staton brings an old valley legend to life in his own rich and atmospheric style. Journey into a forgotten world of moonlit castles, the mysterious Tylwyth Teg, and a young collier whose single step into the fairy dance will change everything.

So, draw your chair a little closer to the fire, let the shadows gather, and listen carefully… for if, one summer evening, you should hear music drifting across a lonely Welsh hillside, remember this tale.

The Fair Folk are not always searching for victims.

Sometimes…

They are simply looking for one more dancer.

If you enjoy Time Between Times, you can support the podcast and help keep these old stories alive by visiting:

🌙 Website:

https://www.welshstoryteller.com

☕ Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/owenstaton

📚 Substack:

Time between Times Storytelling with Owen Staton

Owen Staton is a Welsh performer and storyteller who hosts the Time between Times podcast. He writes stories and explores Myths and History while also discussing Mental Health and living with kindness and compassion. He can do nothing with his hair

❤️ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/owenstaton

You can also follow Owen on social media by searching “Time Between Times Storytelling with Owen Staton” on Facebook and your favourite podcast platform.

Until next time…

Nos da… and don’t stray from the path.

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In this episode, Owen Staton retells the chilling tale of John Gethin and the Candle, one of Wales’ most unsettling folk legends. Journey into a world where ancient mountains guard terrible secrets, where courage is tested against supernatural terror, and where every bargain has its price.

Then, as the fire crackles at the heart of the forest, Owen is joined by the wonderful Eleanor Greenwood—performer, writer, mask maker and storyteller. Together they explore folklore, performance, the power of masks, and the timeless magic of stories that refuse to be forgotten.

You can discover more about Eleanor’s work here:
🌿

https://www.eleanorgreenwood.com

If you enjoy Time Between Times, please consider supporting the podcast and helping these stories continue to reach listeners around the world.

🌙 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/owenstaton7
🔥 Ko-fi: https://www.ko-fi.com/owenstaton
🌲 Website:

https://www.welshstoryteller.com

Thank you, as always, for joining me beside the fire. Draw your chair a little closer, listen carefully to the wind, and remember…

Subscribe now

This week, gather with me beside the fire as we journey into one of the most inspiring and haunting stories in all of Welsh history.

Together, we travel back to the year 1136, when Wales stood on the brink of being overwhelmed by the Norman Marcher Lords. At the heart of that struggle was a remarkable woman—Princess Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd—who refused to wait behind castle walls. Instead, she mounted her horse, drew her sword, and led her people into battle in defence of her homeland.

But history is only the beginning…

For when the battle was over and Gwenllian fell upon the fields of Kidwelly, the people of Wales believed her story had not ended. Across the lonely marshes of Maes Gwenllian, where mist curls through the reeds and silence hangs heavy in the evening air, many have claimed to see a spectral rider upon a white horse. A noble figure searching endlessly through the twilight—not for revenge, but for her children, her people, and the Wales she gave everything to protect.

Tonight, we’ll explore both the history and the haunting, discovering how one woman’s extraordinary courage transformed her into one of the greatest heroines of Wales and one of its most enduring legends.

So settle beside the fire, let the flames warm your face, and listen for the distant thunder of ghostly hooves across the Welsh night.

Welcome… to Time Between Times.

If you enjoy these stories and would like to help support the podcast, you can do so here:

🌙 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/owenstaton7

☕ Ko-fi: https://www.ko-fi.com/owenstaton

🌿 Website:

https://www.welshstoryteller.com

You can also subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts, leave a rating or review, and share the episode with anyone who loves folklore, history, myths, legends and ghost stories.

Until next time…

Nos da.

Owen x

In this enchanting episode of Time Between Times, Owen journeys to the rugged shores of Scotland to tell the haunting folkloric tale of The Selkie’s Skin — a story of love, longing, and the irresistible call of the sea. Beneath the glow of the moon and the whisper of the tide, this ancient legend unfolds with all the mystery and melancholy that has captivated listeners for generations.

Then, as the flames crackle at the firepit deep within the heart of the forest, Owen is joined by the remarkable Natalie Huber Rodriguez, an extraordinary storyteller from the Taíno Nation of America. Natalie shares the inspiration behind her acclaimed podcast, Monstress, and speaks passionately about the power of storytelling, heritage, and cultural memory.

To complete this unforgettable evening, Natalie honours us with a deeply moving tale from her tribal folklore — a story rich with wisdom, emotion, and ancestral spirit, reminding us that the oldest stories are often the ones that speak most powerfully to the human heart.

So settle beside the fire, listen to the wind through the trees, and step once more into the Time Between Times.

⁠www.welshstoryteller.com⁠

⁠www.ko-fi.com/owenstaton⁠

⁠www.patreon.com/owenstaton7⁠

Please find Monstress presented by Natalie on the link below

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Find Natalie on Instagram

@asihacuya

The lonely Bwlch Road between Baglan and Cwmavon.

Many of us have driven this road countless times. We’ve watched the mist roll over the mountain, felt the wind buffet the car, and admired the breathtaking views across Port Talbot and the Afan Valley. But what if this ancient pass remembers far more than it reveals?

Local legend speaks of a mysterious figure standing beside the old mine workings high on the mountain. Silent. Motionless. Forever pointing into the darkness beneath the earth.

Who is he?

A miner who never returned home?

A guardian watching over those still resting beneath the mountain?

Or a warning to those who venture too close to forgotten places?

In this new episode, I weave together the history of the Bwlch, the rich mining heritage of the Port Talbot area, and one of its most intriguing ghost stories into a tale of memory, mystery and the enduring spirit of our Welsh landscape.

If you’ve ever travelled the road between Cwmavon and Baglan, this story may make you see it in a very different light.

So dim the lights, settle by the fire, and join me as we journey once more into the Time Between Times…

🎙️ Listen wherever you get your podcasts.

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Nos da, my friends… and if you find yourself crossing the Bwlch after dark, keep your eyes on the roadside… because some sentinels never abandon their post

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This week on Time Between Times Storytelling with Owen Staton, we leave the well-worn paths behind and climb into the lonely Welsh hills, where the veil between our world and the Otherworld is said to be at its thinnest.

When an old shepherd hears the distant ringing of unseen bells, he finds himself standing before a silent funeral procession unlike any ever witnessed by mortal eyes. Drawn towards a tiny white-thorn coffin carried by the mysterious Tylwyth Teg, he uncovers an ancient truth about memory, loss, and the stories that refuse to die.

Inspired by the rich folklore of Wales, The Fairy Funeral is an original tale of haunting beauty that explores the hidden roads of the Fair Folk and reminds us that every name remembered keeps a light burning against the darkness.

So dim the lights, settle by the fire, and join me for another journey into the places where myth lingers in the mist and every whisper on the wind carries the echo of an older world.

Welcome… to The

Time Between Times.

In 1976, terrified witnesses reported seeing a towering winged figure perched upon the church tower at Mawnan Smith. With glowing eyes, vast feathered wings, and a shape that seemed both human and owl, the creature would become one of Britain’s most enduring modern mysteries: the Owlman of Mawnan.

Join Owen Staton as we journey into the shadowed woodlands of Cornwall, where ancient trees crowd forgotten paths and old stones hold older secrets. Together we’ll explore the chilling encounters, the folklore of the night, and the unsettling feeling that sometimes, when darkness falls, something may be watching from above.

So settle by the fire, listen to the wind beyond the window, and keep your eyes on the sky.

Because tonight, we enter the woods beneath the church tower… and search for the Owlman.

Welcome to The Time Between Times.

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