Fantasia On A Country Walk Poem by David Wood

The track from the car park was one mile long, steep
And winding where, beneath the cold winter's snow,
Nineteenth century cobble and broken bricks
That in an earlier life was a fine family home
Now, crumbling away into the ground, give traction
To man and beast. The hedge either side capped
In snow with black naked icy fingers once adorned
With leaves kept a chill wind at bay under a clear blue
Winter sky. Our breath hung in the air, passing once in a
While, snowdrops, whose heads appeared above the snow.
Clara walked ahead as I was burdened with a rucksack.

At the end of the track we emerged into spring where
Nervous rabbits scurried over small lichen covered
Boulders near a stream still carrying its cold winter fill,
Now running down towards the sea. The spring sun has
Lost its long shadows and the still morning airs rustle
The new spring grass that dozens of sheep now graze.
Their spring lambs ever near. In the distance a solitary
Red Kite circles searching for field mice trying to hide.
Skylarks leaping into song with their praise of spring.

We cut through a small wood and emerge into summer
And sit under a large oak tree where I retrieve lunch from
My rucksack. Clara sitting panting, tail wagging - drooling
After my sandwiches - she loves chicken. A noisy woodpecker
Hammers away at an annoyed tree. A spider walks over my
Boots, as I sit watching as it searches its alien environment.
In the distance a tractor ploughs a field, smoke billowing out as
Round and round it goes. The sun now high in the heavens
Casts shards of light through the trees behind me as we set off
Towards the coastal path that leads to Port Eynon.

We walk onwards down another wider tree lined track graced
With a canopy of branches overhead. At the end of which we
Emerge into fine autumn day. We cross over our first road and
Down a narrower track towards Oxwich Bay. Trudging along the
Sand into a head wind, I pull my hat down firmly as Clara walks
Ahead, nose to the sand sniffing at new exciting finds. The humped
Sand dunes to my right offer little shelter from the wind but
Soon we are back on the coastal path with a squadron of black
Headed gulls escorting us along our way past Oxwich Point and
Towards Port Eynon now on our horizon where smoke from a
chimney meanders slowly skywards.

We walk towards the car park where a friend is patiently waiting
In the cold winters day ready to take us back to our starting
Point and our car to wind our weary way back home in the cold
Winter's snow, ready to plan another fine country walk,
Perhaps over a moorland or a winding Welsh mountain path.