Autumn on the foothills of Cader Idris

written after an Autumn visit to Dôl Idris; a most beautiful place.

I do not always look at trees once summer is gone.

Instead, I pay regard to the rising of the wind,

the bare stems of flowers, a leaf falling on grass;

and the city is far away from this lovely place,

hidden behind the brooding hills

that seem older than time itself.

Further out, the horizon slips to infinity,

making shadows from a world beyond mine,

whilst a lone raven, late and hurrying low,

races the embered sun;

the rhythmic beat of his wings

only stirring the air, making no sound,

save that of survival of the fittest.

I watch him land, dark as charred paper

as he settles on a familiar tree.

A raucous cacophony follows,

then silence, as if summer and 

something else besides is gone;

and on the ground, leaves gather, 

deep in rustled conversation.

I find a rock, still warm from the day

and sit for a while, imagining the last

white clouds as ghost ships, sailing 

through miles of cool blue light;

then turn my attention to the half 

denuded trees.  A chorus line

sillhouetted against the indigo sky; 

shifting and shaping as they bend

to the rising of the wind.

Suddenly then, rain spots down,  

a typical September whimsy, 

disposed to catch the unwary. 

But I have visited here many times 

and have already turned; the city

beckoning with its million neon lights,

though none so bright as the moon haloed night

Reviews

[charlie]

"If crows fly low, wind's going to blow..." (from folklore)

A very tasteful and considered account. It rolls out like a fine art film, paired with high end tea.

[Ken Simm.]

That is somewhere I have visited so many times, in all seasons. I cannot say that my favourite mountain in N Wales has ever been described so well for me. This is top notch nature writing and a lovely poem to boot.

[R J Askew]

The magic of place perfectly captured, especially how it vies with our post-modernism misery which masquerades as sophistication, happening life. Yes, the hills were there before human time and will still be there after human cities. Knowingness seems to be in the dark of the raven and mystery in the paleness of the moon. We are somewhere in the midst of it all. Phps the failing warmth of the stone symbolises the autumn of our species. And yes Nature always outdoes the works of man.

[Mark]

A wonderful impression of the beginning of Fall and the end of Summer. Very nicely done. Autumn is my favorite time of year; with the world winding down and preparing to sleep.

[Norman 223]

You are lucky, Beccy. The only time I saw Cader Idris.....I didn't. It was thick mist and torrential rain. Defeated we travelled on to Tryfan and guess what....... We had a "lot of weather". . Yet when I was in the army stationed at Tonfanau we had lovely weather and superb views. Is there a moral in this somewhere?
Thank you for giving me a slightly better perspective of North Wales.
Norman

[송지ፏ..]

Very nice. I liked the description since it made you see it in your mind's eyes. It had a nice flow and it was easy to understand for a person whose English isn't their first language. There were only a few words I needed to look up since I didn't know it.

[emmajoy]

' I watch him land, dark as charred paper ~ as he ( a lone raven ) settles on a familiar tree.' .. .. ..
' and on the ground, leaves gather, ~ deep in rustled conversation.'

Like Ken Simm, you're able - in a brief sentence to paint a canvas - tis remarkable! Your wording throughout made me pause, close eyes and share a glance of your breathtaking surroundings. Beautiful content, beautiful language.

[Neville]

Without a shadow of a doubt, this is one remarkable write indeed...Neville

[Relic]

The images in this are stunning. Whether made up or a favorite place you reside, you brought me there right with you. Nice writing.

[wordman]

sounds like a hidden place in your mind only you can visit,a special place in your soul