Even though I know the context of this image I still thing the pattern of dancing morning sunlight on the railway bridge wall is deceptive. It looks as though the bridge may be crossing water, but in reality it is a pattern created by the shadows of tree branches next to the bridge and the relief texture of the stones with which it is built.
Looking down the perspective of this twisting trickle of water from the top of the footpath leading up from the entrance to the National Botanic Garden of Wales where I have been walking this week, I am reminded of how much our two daughters enjoyed this place when it opened and they were young children. This stream of water and other features along the way created endless fun for them to the point where one of them said it was her favourite place in Wales!
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.
They are central to the image and framed by the tree but the gulls admiring the view towards the low afternoon sun across the lake are not a big enough in this shot to argue that they were the main feature of my focus – but they were to begin with! Without a longer lens than that provided by my iPhone I had no choice but to consider the composition of the wider scene – but that’s OK because I like the tree as well.
Continuing on my walk this week around an urban lakeside I found that low angle shots often provided the best viewpoint. Looking at things from another viewpoint often provides a different understanding of the subject and allows you to see things you might otherwise have ignored and passed by.
This evening landscape at the end of my walk this week in Penclawdd on the North Gower coast was not really very late in the day – just after 4pm. The days seem so short at this time of day, but I must try to remember those further north who, if you go far enough north, see no real sunlight at all through the day. I cannot imagine what that is like.
The sounds of this walk include many of the activities of the place, both man-made and natural. It was good to find myself hidden from the traffic and industry so easily by such a low lying shield of land as I walked at the edge of the salt marsh.
Enjoy the sounds along with selected images from my walk below.
At the end of my walk this week I found myself cold again. Unlike the sheep in the shade of this frosty field, I did not have a thick wooly coat but a few hundred yards earlier I had been hot in the sunshine on top of the hill.
Listen to the soundscape for the walk below and take a look at the image sequence at the same time – I hope find it different to the last time I walked this route in the opposite direction just a few weeks ago.
The old iron railing on the footbridge which I crossed on my walk this week will be familiar to those who saw my posts a couple of weeks ago about my previous walk on this route. I wasn’t originally going to include the sound clip below because it’s just water flowing under the bridge – but then on listening to it again, I changed my mind!
The sounds of that flow have three distinct stages: the first part has a lot of bubbly texture to it, including trickles and tickles, gloops and bloops, splashes and plashes (in preference to more technical language), the second is more even with those highlights less noticeable, and the ambience of the third stage has greater weight on the right hand speaker but with a gloopy base returning in the background – and then the sound fades to my footsteps climbing a dry leafy slope.