The Rhinogs
A green track starts off gently, leading into a craggy, folded landscape. Lonely hawthorns lean with the wind. The bones of the land show through thin layers of scree, heather and bog. Craggy high ground heads up into sky. A place to lose yourself, and listen to just wind and water, trickling and lapping at the edges, just doing what water does. Then, descend into a golden evening light, and a stillness broken only by birdsong as night approaches.
a green track
sunlight and shadow
rock and sky beside Lynn Hywel
Rhinog Fach
the bones of the land
sometimes a damp walk in
after the rain
clouds spilling over tops
