bewilderbrain

The gentle fall of leaves in a flat-lit landscape, an adventure on an unmarked mountain pathway, a surprise stone circle…

Monday 13th October 2025
Walk start time: 8.59am
Walk finish time: 10.37am
Walk area: Graig mountain circular and unknown path
Miles walked: 3.4

A journey into a cloaked landscape.

Skies overcast with the palest of greys have rendered a flat, still light, hiding the depth and contrast of the hills.

It is like nature, in the midst of its magnificent tumble into autumn, has chosen to have a little snooze – to rest a moment from the bustle of the season – retreating under the grey anonymity of the stratus clouds.

Its contours have been gentled and dampened, colours muted, but there is a still energy out here – it feels like a landscape waiting in the wings.

I start my walk heading through some of the small steeply inclining side streets of the Graig, cosily packed terraces laid in neatly sloping rows, the size and quaintness such that they look as if they would be more complete with snow-dusted rooftops.

As I turn a corner, in the tiny back yard of one, enclosed by an old stone wall, two blue tits flit busily to and fro on a well stocked bird feeder, which swings back and forth with their darting movements. A reminder that even a small outdoor space has enormous potential to benefit wildlife.

Further up the roads to the mountain path, I turn into a little stepped cut through to the next road, brushing my shoulder against an imposing Leylandii which stands like a gatekeeper to the path. A wash of delicious lemony pine scent is released, and I inhale deeply, taking the opportunity to enjoy nature’s version of a fine coffee to energise me for my walk.

After leaping in a distinctly un-gazelle-like manner over a large patch of sodden mud at the entrance to the main mountain path, I reach today’s turn off. A still relatively new to me and wonderful pathway, which accesses some beautiful parts of the mountain, and other areas of circular pathway which I am still putting together like pieces of a jigsaw in my head.

The path traverses a section of open grassy mountain top with crisp bronze bracken dotted around its edges and throughout the trees, then descends gently in a little stone walled forest pathway, where the varied canopies of birch and yew interlace overhead.

Further on, the deep green moss topped stones start to reveal open mountain views beyond, the pathway now flanked with mature oaks, their seasonal glut of acorns still crunching underfoot amidst the thickening carpet of dry leaves.

The path through the autumn woodland diverges…

I reach a fork in the path, and have to stop and consider a moment. One direction leads me to a beautiful open mountaintop with large ponds, where herons can often be seen, the other will loop back around the edge of the mountain, I have walked that way once, but coming from the other direction, and it is something of an understatement to say that directional sense is not my strong point..

I strike off down the path which should loop around, but am quickly met with another fork, rendering me instantly lost.

I’m pretty sure it’s the right hand path, heading further down the mountain, and I set off, feeling surprised after a short distance by its steepness, and admiring its magnificent trees.

Something doesn’t feel quite right with the direction though, and after a short distance, and surveying my immediate scenery, I spot a distinct old beehive near the top of a tall tree, off and away to the left. I have seen this on my venture this way before, and on that occasion the path ran directly alongside it.

It confirms that I have taken the wrong branch of the track, and thankful to have verification, I retrace my steps back up through the slippery leaves to the fork.

Bronzed bracken and gently flying autumn leaves…

The pathway stretches through a truly bracken covered mountainside, which even in the slightly dulled colouration of todays light, still manages to lend a gently bronzed warmth to my surroundings.

The hazy grey sky is still carrying misty low cloud across the distant hills, and as I walk across this vista a sudden flutter of wind, no more than an insistent whisper, sends yellow and gold leaves like dancing butterflies across the view in front of me.

It is maybe a result of our ferocious summer, that so many of the trees around me still seem largely green. The tall oaks in particular are retaining much full foliage, some with still only faint tinges of yellow around their edges.

Having driven very recently through the edges of the glorious Forest of Dean, and seen the incredible flushes of bright autumn colour, I wonder if the slightly higher rainfall we received in Wales toward the end of the summer has prolonged the seasons a little.

At mid October, I feel like the landscape around me is standing on a very real cusp, and that autumn proper will swoop like a bird of prey in flight at any given moment. I hope that the true change doesn’t come too suddenly with its later than usual timing, the season has a lot of magic left to offer for those who chase it.

On Graig mountain, the landscape is less affected by the mining that has changed the shape and form of many others in the area (see – Forest life from the coal dust – my last walk, on Mynydd Gelliwion)

Natural woodland had climbed and evolved the habitat of this mountain over the years, but its form remains unchanged. The locals remember the mountain top in decades past as being huge stretches of open hillside, of which patches still exist, where whinberries can be picked in late summer.

Searching for autumn colours in a magical land…

The pathway through the bracken blanketed hillside now starts to curve back in towards the trees, and before long I descend through the trees to a little kissing gate.

Surrounded by bracken, carpeted with russet leaves, flanked by a tumble down stone wall and a magically twisting oak, the scene looks like the entranceway to an enchanted kingdom. I may have a vivid imagination, but the sense is further enhanced by the gentle trickle of the stream running right beside the gate, reflecting fragments of precious daylight amongst the floating autumn leaves.

As the lovely stone walled path opens out ahead of me, I survey the landscape. Autumn hasn’t quite made up its mind up yet here, and the flat light of the day makes it difficult for any bold hues of nature to shine.

Nevertheless, the landscape still carries its own subtle palette. Gentle variations and undulations of greens and browns with softly interwoven orange, yellow and whites. The colours are here, you just have to work a bit harder to notice and feel them, fine tuning your senses to the subtlety of the picture, and allowing pleasure from the mellow contrast.

I have always been fascinated by the changing qualities and effects of light, and season change lends these changing effects a particular piquancy. (see my walking diary from a couple of weeks ago Autumn – the magical light of equinox)

The subtle colours of the day are briefly and vividly interupted by this clutch of brilliant holly berries, bold and abundant, their neat and shiny leaves reliably reflecting the light even on the dullest of days.

As my path turns to round the edge of the mountain before wending back to my start point, I am viewed suspiciously by pretty pony, who appears like he might have just eaten the contents of his adjoining field.

An unmarked path, hidden vistas and a secret stone circle…

Open mountaintop stretches away to my left, and I begin to descend to the point where my path joins on to the main mountain track. I am almost there, when my attention is diverted by a side track. I have seen it before, heading inexplicably and enticingly up into a copse of trees.

I have looked it up on the definitive map too, and it definitely doesn’t exist as an official footpath. I have already walked a few miles. Hmmm…..should I ?

Yes, go on then, look at it… where does it go? I tramp up the path between two fenced off bits of field, and as it enters the trees it starts to ascend sharply. My knees, and indeed my lungs at this point, start to complain a little.

My fitness has taken a bit of a hit over the past few months, but it is pathways like this that will start to put that right, I think, as I puff and pant my way upwards.

I am rewarded for my efforts by emerging on the mountain top, steep sided undergrowth covered cliff falling away to my right, and sadly fenced off private land yielding open fields and spectacular landscape, like a perfect forbidden land over on my left.

The higgledy piggledy narrow path continues alongside the fence however, so I continue, doggedly working my way through bracken and bramble to obtain ever more magnificent views over the town below. It’s a stunning spot.

Just as suddenly and randomly as this little pathway seems to appear from the blue off the main route now way below, I follow it to what feels like close to the far edge of the mountain, and it just….stops. The path dissappears completely into solid bracken against the fence into private land.

I rather suspected this might happen, and I try not to be too disappointed – how I would have loved to continue around the entire edge of the mountain. Before I start to retrace my steps towards the steep woodland descent however, I enjoy the distant views over the hills beyond and suddenly notice a small stone circle on the very edge of the mountain in the field beyond.

I have no idea whether the arrangement has any age or history to it, or has been more recently placed, but it certainly adds to the edge of magic this final leg of my walk has brought, and that I feel is ever present in this amazing landscape.

Link to all Walking Diaries posts…