Driving into the view . . .

It has been an afternoon of taking offspring places - first our eldest daughter to the train station for onward transportation to Sheffield, and then to drop our son off at Cross Hands, where he's meeting up with his mates to celebrate a friend's birthday. We drove home cross-country, in beautiful sunshine (which has been teaming up with stonking great slate-grey clouds all day and doing shine and heavy showers turn and turn about). The view across the Towy Valley was superb. This particular photo shows the meanders of the River Towy as seen from Dryslwyn Castle on a winter visit.

As we dropped down the steep winding hill from Penrhiwgoch, the land fell swooping away towards the river valley. A gate stood open onto a woodland ride, and the narrowing edge of a field was edged by oak and ash - looking so peaceful I half-expected Bambi's mother to step out of the shadows and look around. The wind combed through the trees like a blast from a hairdryer, racing across the many-greened squares of fields and bucketing through their hedgerows.



Passing Dryslwyn Castle, I could see that the House Martins were flying loops around the curtain walls of the castle, diving through the empty windows and dipping over the river flowing at its feet. The wind plucked thistle-fluff and tossed it into the air. At the roadside, the sorrel was a deep rusty brown, and the hedgerow bottoms already turning umber. One of the Umbellifers (I must go and look it up) had turned a deep ruby red.

Autumn is here.