My walk this week is on the Swansea Uplands again. The weather on The Mawr (pronounced the same as “power”) can be unpredictable, but at least you can be sure that it is unpredictable! Crossing the area on my way home from an unproductive production day, I stopped in a small lay-by and took a walk up the hill to my left. It wasn’t raining or snowing at the time – in fact it had cleared quite nicely and I could see a vague track going straight upwards towards a half hidden way marker.
On this walk I was following the wind and focused more on that than anything else. The soundscape below along with the images will hopefully help you to accompany me on this walk during that day of Storm Doris.
I ended the documentation of the walk at the weir on the Afon Dulais river where the roar of water collected by the river overnight overwhelmed any amount of noise the wind was making.
My walk this week is the third of my walks on consecutive days in my local valley, Cwm Dulais. Where the previous day was misty, this walk was windy – in fact I did this walk on the day of Storm Doris. We did not have the strength of wind that some other parts of the country received but it was notable all the same.
The most interesting aspect of the walk was the sound and how it changed at different stages of the walk – see (listen) below.
Nearing the end of my walk this week, the second of my walks up Cwm Dulais on consecutive days, I am reminded how different this walk was to the one on the previous day (posted last week). I did not do any field recording on this occasion and so the soundscape below does not reflect the misty atmosphere. However, I didn’t want to leave without an aural experience so I have included an edit of another recent walk in the same place but on a much brighter day.
So remember, if you are listening to the sound file at the same time as viewing the images, the two environmental atmospheres are quite different.
Having descended to the valley bottom on my walk up Cwm Dulais, I crossed the small footbridge over the Afon Dulais (“river” in Welsh is “afon” just as “cwm” is “valley”). Saying that the bridge railings are rusty might suggest that they are worn and falling apart but the rust is only a surface colouration rather than a deep and weakening phenomenon. What I assume is cast iron is as hard and strong as ever.
Rising higher on this, my second consecutive walk up the Cwm Dulais valley, I came into a heavy mist. The mist was not so heavy that I couldn’t see the friendly horse in the field at the top to whom I like to chat, but his own grey colour is not far off that of the mist – well camouflaged for weather like this!
My walk this week is the second of three valley walks I recently took along the same route up Cwm Dulais. Despite the walks being taken on three consecutive days, the experience was different each time, both visually and aurally.
It is not immediately obvious at this point on the walk that the weather was going to be as misty as it turned out to be. The clues are in the light and the globules of water on the grass in the last shot below.
Coming to the end of my walk this week in the local valley of Cwm Dulais, I reached this abandoned rusty metal doorway in an old wall. It must be well known locally but I am not certain of what it used to be the entrance to – I think I am going to have to do some local historical investigation . . . next stop, the local library.
