A tight knot of mermerosity
When we set out, just past Castell Dinas, we pass a dog driving a tractor. Or so it seems. The shadow of Bruno the dog is long. We see him everywhere. Every morning when I first go downstairs… Read More
When we set out, just past Castell Dinas, we pass a dog driving a tractor. Or so it seems. The shadow of Bruno the dog is long. We see him everywhere. Every morning when I first go downstairs… Read More
The Olchon Valley, which I only discovered recently, is a place that feels as though it shouldn’t exist. It is almost the definition of somewhere lost to the world; undiscovered, little known even to those who walk its… Read More
I filmed this isard, or chamois, a couple of summers ago while hiking above Coma de Vaca, in the Pyrenees. I came across the clip on my computer this morning and thought I would post it. It felt… Read More
When we had finished our meal, I covered the embers of the fire with tranches of muddy turf, trod them down. We returned to the car. The lane winds down the narrow valley for six miles, between wooded… Read More
This week we said goodbye to Bruno, dearest and most joyful of dogs. He was old, at fifteen, but he was cheerful and brave to the end. He just couldn’t do much for himself by then, other than… Read More
Choose a day of red weather; no, leave the weather out of it, let the day choose you. You decide to walk to Bal Mawr, setting out from the five ways junction, by the grey telephone box, and… Read More