Sebulon

By sebrose

Jol’s wood

I’ve got early meetings, but they’re over by half nine. Mum heads off to get at class and then Jol arrives. I jump into the Corsa and we begin the journey to Pentre Bach.

The sky clears as we proceed along the M4 and by the time we’re in the Brecons, it’s a glorious day.

We’re find the beginning of the unadopted council track at the end of a step, pot holed, dead end, single track, road. It’s not suitable for the Corsa, so we leave it in the farmyard and proceed on foot, munching on a cheese roll.

The wood is a lovely mix of thinned spruce and native trees. It looks like there has been some coppicing at some point. There’s birch, poplar, oak, hazel and more. We even find a couple of shoots of holly bursting forth.

At the bottom of the north facing slope is a big pond, with an island or two. We disturb the geese and ducks, who fly off honking. There’s a plastic boat, but no oars, so that adventure will have to wait.

The south shore of the pond is solid and sunny. We’re bask in the afternoon heat. I doze.

Completing the tour of the wood, we walk the forestry paths, picking our way over brash left from the thinning. There’s a few trees that have succumbed to storms and one massive root ball that Jol wants to keep vertical.

Next time, we’ll come back in a 4x4. For now, we walk back to the Corsa, drive the two and a half hours back to Bedwyn, and cook tea for mum.

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