Arthog, Gwynedd: We are well into autumn, but the sounds of foxes and owls promise the new life of spring
At twilight, by silvered illumination of a gibbous moon, I ease stiff limbs along Y Ffordd Ddu – the black road that contours round under the northern slopes of Cadair Idris. A flickering moon-shadow leads me to the stony, sunken track that descends past Cyfannedd to Cors Arthog and the rail and footbridge across to Abermaw.
All is silent as I enter the woods. Gnarled and writhing branches of sessile oak are latticed across the hunchbacked moon. I glimpse the light of Ynys Enlli (Bardsey island), flashing from far across the bay at the end of the northern peninsula of Wales.