Moving on up the lane approaching The Waterside on my walk this week the winter bareness of the trees revealed the natural fractal growth of their branches against the sky. This first image can also be see in full black and white on Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness MM 3-41 blog post.
Returning to my starting point in my local park on my walk this week, I had a last glimpse of the marshes on the Loughor Estuary. The light was still strong as there was not a cloud to be seen and the air was clear.
Reviewing the walk, I am reminded that although I have called it the Castell Ddu Walk, the castle, or what remains of it does not feature in the images other than the related nearby motte situated at the side of the motorway. The link and quoted text below gives some information on the place.
My walk this week started in a local park, crossed frozen marshes, went under and over two railway bridges, crossed a motorway, fields and returned to the park. I saw automobiles on the motorway but no trains and only distant planes. However, I did record the somehow relaxing sound of a light aircraft and the sound of my footsteps on rock hard frozen, frosty fields – the soundscape will be posted tomorrow in my review of the walk.
My walk this week is one with winter frost and sunshine in abundance – it was very enjoyable. I did not have the inclination to climb on this particular morning and so took to the local park and from there headed down to the river. The tide was not high and there was little or no wind so the river Loughor and its marshy estuary were still and bright.
My walk this week around Carmarthen took in the part of the castle. There is a lot more to the castle than I am showing here but you will not find these photos on Castles of Wales website. The images on the Castles of Wales site are clearly less recent than my own and do not show that there is now a metal spiral staircase rising to the room above the castle gate where this window is situated along with a flag pole which made a very noticeable sound in the wind.
At about the half way point on the return along the linear route of my walk this week there is a kissing gate which stands alone at the junction of a small footpath leading off through the fields. The photo below suggests a peck on the cheek rather than a kiss but though I went to get a photo of the reflections in the path-side pool, I didn’t actually go through the gate. It was, as I said, standing alone and there was no need to go through it when I could go round – I wondered why it was there at all but was conscious of not using it. Had it been made of wood I am certain I would have used it but while the idea of a gate of this design has practical purposes, the modern materials rather spoil the effect.
The long straight path I took on my walk this week is not all that long in reality, and neither is it entirely straight. Often when walking I try to pace myself and not rush off at the beginning as this allows me to do a longer walk without my knees giving any trouble. However, when the path is flat, paved, even and like this one, straight(ish), I find I automatically speed up and it can become more of a march. Had it not been for the fact that I was stopping to photograph and record, I would have completed the linear route there and back quite quickly.
The photo below is of something not generally considered very desirable – Japanese Knotweed – but I liked the strange sticky curtain in front of the field that it created in its bare winter state.
My walk in this first week of the new year is a childhood memory walk. That does not mean memories of my childhood but instead memories of a walk I used to take when my daughter was at dance class. I would drop her off at the class venue and take an enjoyable hour long walk in the locality. It was not perhaps the sort of place I would normally walk – it is straight (more or less), flat and suburban – but it is also very attractive in its own way. It is quite a long time now since my daughter attended the dance class but taking the walk reminded me strongly of that time.
