Morning mountains. Bright sun. Cold wind.

A big week getting ready for the Bath Artisan Market on Sunday 10th August. My first piece of displacement activity, in fact my default displacement activity in general - striding up Hay Bluff.

I can always justify walking up a mountain well, it's exercise! I found some wild thyme blooming on the slopes. Very Shakespearian, and a sure sign that fairies live here, although they would have to be hardy little folk to withstand the weather.

It was bright and sunny, but a very cold wind blew as I climbed. The light was amazing, everything so clear.

I feel so lucky to have this as my nearest place to ascend. I love the interplay of sunshine and shadow early in the morning.

 The only problem with walking up Hay Bluff at 6.30am is the ice cream van has not yet arrived in the car park when I arrive back there!
Now to begin the week.

A herd of mountain ponies

Up on Hay Bluff this morning, the air full of skylark song, and a fresh breeze.

The sky was wonderfully moody, with a massive cloudscape. It really is a huge sky up there.

There was a small herd of  ponies resting, with some foals lying down, and their mothers standing together.

One little foal saw us, and pricked up his ears.

The stallion with them was a handsome chap. He kept an eye on us, but wasn't too concerned. He's on the far left of the picture.

And then, he lowered his head and rounded up the mares, the foals scrambling to their feet, and the herd set off. He walked at the back. They looked marvellous against the cloudy sky.

It was a great way to start the day.

Walking up Hay Bluff. Eating ice cream.

 I started my preparation for a huge week of school workshops and performances by striding up Hay Bluff.

 The ascent is quite steep which makes me feel as though I am really exercising, and the views from the top of the ridge are astonishing. That's PenyFan in the distance, looking very one dimensional.

The hawthorn is in full flower, and there were splashes of white wherever I looked.

 The air was full of skylarks singing. Swallows swooped below me as I sat on the top, and a hang glider twirled in the breeze.

Usually there are only sheep, some cows, and ponies as company. The foals happy resting in the sunshine. Bees buzzing, even at the top of the ridge. A skylark walked past me as I sat very still. I've never seen one close up before.

Today is the last day of the Hay Festival however, and it's not raining, so the car park was full of people eating ice cream and feeding their sandwiches to some of the more friendly ponies. I love the contrast of the jolly ice cream van and the dramatic sky behind it.

The ice cream seller and I agreed that it was great to live here.
I'm nearly ready for the week!

Oak trees, bluebells and the shape of the wind

A windy day on the coast of North Wales, walking on the clifftops and through woodland overlooking Barmouth and the sea.

There were so many oak trees with spring leaves of vibrant green, often with bluebells beneath them. It's impossible to photograph the unique colour of bluebells, so this photo gives an impression only.

The wind blew so strongly I could only just stand upright on the exposed clifftops, and it was still strong when walking sheltered by oak trees and stern geology.

 Descending to sea level, I tried to walk on the beach. A boat stood, deserted by the tide, and I wanted to walk out to it.

However, the strong wind was picking up the top layer of  sand and swirling it round. I could neither see nor breathe properly, so I had to stop. But I noticed the wonderful sand shapes the wind was making, and was reminded of the poet Taliesin and his poem describing the wind as an invisible creature.

Then away to Menai Bridge and the art exhibition of Clive Hicks Jenkins at Oriel Tegfryn. I completely failed to record any of the lovely pictures, but have a nice one of Clive,

and his delightful dog Jack, who stole everyone's hearts!

There are pictures and details of Clive's exhibition on his excellent blog, http://clivehicksjenkins.wordpress.com/

Then home through the darkness past the shadowy mountains.

Behind the waterfall.

A waterfall walk through a woodland valley filled with the sound of rushing water. Every vista was impossibly picturesque.

The best waterfall is one you can walk behind. There were a lot of people who had come to do this, picking their way across the very slippery rocks to stand behind the curtain of water.

The energy and moisture in the air makes it difficult to breathe deeply. The waterfall's voice fills the ears. 

I leaned against the mossy rocks, looked at the water before me, and burst into tears.

And then back onto the path, as more people came to spend some moments behind the waterfall.

Prospero and Table Mountain

I walked up  Table Mountain outside Crickhowell, starting on the valley floor, next to the river, and looking up at my destination.

The 'table' makes a wonderful circular viewing platform, with the valleys below and peaks stretching above and away on all sides. In the damp air, the colours were intense and magnified. Breathtaking.

The noise of the wind blotted out all other sounds. Clouds rushed past, ragged hounds in full cry streaming over the ridge. I thought of Prospero saying to Ariel "Thou shalt be free as mountain wind," and thought what a fierce freedom that would be.

How wonderful to see Prospero giving his "this rough magic" speech up here. Breaking his staff and giving up his tiny place in the elemental magical world. I had a tremendous desire to follow the path on the next ridge, and keep walking, into the clouds and away.

Walking on the Skirrid Mountain.

On Easter Sunday I took my troubles to the Skirrid Mountain, and the wind carried them away.

 The Skirrid is one of my favourite mountains. Not difficult to climb, as there is a well used path maintained by the National Trust, and you climb up to the ridge, and then along to the summit.

The ascent is through a woodland, and yesterday it was full of birdsong, and so many wild flowers.
Primroses were blooming beneath the stalks of last years bracken, which will soon grow and cover them up. The brambles were beginning to sprout as well.

Lots of violets too. I was reminded of Oberon's speech in Midsummer Night's Dream;
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

There aren't any roses on the Skirrid, but plenty of woodbine beginning to grow, and little wood anenomes. Wild strawberry leaves,  and of course the first bluebells. There used to be wild thyme, but I couldn't see any yesterday.

There are some magical dead trees, covered in moss.

And near the top of the ascent before stepping onto the ridge, hawthorn. I imagine immortal spirits sitting in these hawthorn trees watching humankind as it trudges up the mountain and back down again.

The Skirrid accepts the scars that countless feet have made on its back, and it accepts all who walk along it, however fast or slow.

It was very cloudy and grey yesterday. There was little of the usually wonderful view on display. Just some silhouettes and faint shapes beyond the gorse.

It was so windy that I didn't stop at the summit. Feeling that the wind might knock me over, I turned round immediately and walked carefully back along the ridge. Some trees seemed to be doing the same thing.

Walking back through the greening woodland, I felt the mountain working its magic, and my spirits were lifted.

When the rain came the tiny sound of the raindrops filled the air, which smelled sweet and fresh. I felt absolutely blessed.

Walking by the Wye

I walk every day, regardless of weather. With the unexpected sunshine today it was a pleasure to be out, and I walked to the river, with the puddles on the path reflecting the sky.

 Walking through the field to the river there is a most lovely view, with the church tower appearing through the trees, and hills behind.

 The Wye is very full, flowing swiftly. The water level has gone down today, but it's still  high.

I often stop and say hallo to these two trees, who look as though they are conversing.

Even the rather functional bridge looked good today. It's the sunshine.

And then back through Hay, where there was a really characteristic country town traffic jam.

I was going to write a poem, but I think the pictures speak for themselves!
Happy Walking!