The land that time remembered

A long walk through age-old grassy lanes and paths took us up through the empty fields of Trellwyn Isaf, a ruined farm I've known for many years. Its name hit the headlines recently when its 146 acres of marginal land  was  bought, thanks to a huge donation, for the The Wildlife Trusts’ Atlantic rainforest recovery programme.


Through the bare bones of a collapsed Dutch barn the view above looks across the valley to the hills beyond. The old farm itself (see extras) reveals a progression of ages and building styles from massive corner stones and a still-standing chimney to asbestos roofing, corrugated tin and breeze blocks. An iron waterwheel that could be used to power machinery is still in situ. The withered damson tree that was the object of our outing bore no fruit - perhaps it has finally reached the end of its fertile years too.


I won't be around to see the the land transformed  back into wild wood and moor. There are mixed feelings about this of course because the human element, visible in the ancient routes, walls, banks and stones, will gradually become erased or invisible as wilder life takes over.

As we headed out towards the nearest road we met the land owner coming in and passed the time of day, as one does. We know him of old as another parent with kids at the local primary school (and for many summers he sheared our huge and truculent ram). His three sons all turned their backs on agriculture and have desk jobs so the land has no future for his family. (Sad... or realistic?)

We didn't mention the rewilding project but complemented him on his new letterbox - ever a joker, he'd repurposed a sheep feed container (3rd extra). Why would I buy one? he chuckled.

Our expedition was not fruitless; we returned with enough blackberries for more than one pie.