Spurred on by Martin's account from Sunday, I decided that as I couldn't start the job I had lined up for today, until nine at the earliest, I would aim to be at CCG at first light, to try for RZ. I didn't quite manage first light, but I was there not long after.
Hill fog was flirting with the tops of the crag, but visibility remained mainly good, despite the dim light. A Blackbird was singing loudly from a tree at the road end of the crag and continued to do so the whole time I was there. Lots of Chaffinch were singing and a couple of Meadow Pipits, and Wrens too, but no sound of a RZ was to be heard for quite a while until I eventually heard one call briefly from the end crag. Frustratingly, although I heard the odd call from the same area on several occasions, I just couldn't pinpoint it.
After around three quarters of an hour I heard calling overhead and saw two males chasing each other, flying from behind me (the Brecon side). I followed them to the main crag, where they both plummeted headlong down the face, twisting and jinking rapidly as they went until the inevitable happened and I lost them.
After that I heard more calling from the original site and occasionally from close to where I lost the fly-over two, but still no singing. Time was running short by now, so I was relieved, having heard more calling from the main crag, when I located three males chasing each other round and round inside a large hawthorn tree, hopping from branch to branch in an almost playful manner. I watched them for a few minutes, then it was time to leave for work.
On my way out, I saw a photographer close to the base of the main crag. He had what must have been the largest lens known to man. I swear, if he had stood it on end, it would have been almost as tall as him and he could have fitted his head inside the hood. To carry it he had a photo backpack the size of a sofa!