The sound of silence

I needed a walk today and got Keith to drop me off by a farm across the valley (which meant I didn't need to drag myself up the steep hill on the valley side.)  I did the bridleway walk, as I wanted to get away from everything and everyone, and indeed, only saw two cars all the time I was out.  It was partly an experiment to see how quiet it was in the proper countryside, as the Beeb is doing a recording of Silence in Antarctica to calm people down.  I thought, well, I can cope with the wind in the trees, the occasional bird noise, and the chatter of a lane-side stream - I don't need to go to Antarctica to have Silence . . .

Some colour on my walk, as I was walking the bridleway loop.  The wind suddenly got up and I had to snatch a chance to photograph as it dropped for a millisecond and before the leaves were thrashing again.

All the leaves are gone on all but the most stubborn oaks now.

Looking across the Towy Valley, in rather murky light, and below, a close up of the fields along the valley bottom.

This bare tree looks so beautiful.

The slightly pink hue on some of the trees show that these are Alders, putting out tiny catkins.

This is one of the valley neighbours.  It turns out he was cutting holly (without berries) for his wife to make a Christmas wreath for the church.  I helped her carry the branches back.

The lane ahead and below, the plants still growing in the wet ditch.

Looking up the valley.  The dark clump of trees hide the farmhouse where my son's best friend grew up.

The lane ahead.

Bramble leaves still hold their autumn colour.

Looking across the valley again, above and below.

Some slightly blurry photos of holly berries and the river.

Just off to bed now - having had a tussel to get a bat out of my daughter's bedroom (great screaming alerted us!)  I "think" it went out of my - opened - office window, but have just heard scrabbling, so perhaps it's hanging on a curtain still . . .  We'll find out in the morning.  Meanwhile I shall shut it in!