Frost still outlined the old oak leaves that lay against the dry-stone wall. The sun had yet to reach the path below the hill, and despite the hints of spring in the hedgerow it felt unreasonably cold. Beyond the wall, breached here and there by the slow heave of ancient trees, the pasture sloped down toward the flood plain of the Afon Mawddach.
Once a main route, the stone bridge at Llanelltyd now carries only a quiet footpath, allowing a glimpse of a time when travel was slower paced. While not the first crossing on this site, its five elegant arches have survived the depredations of floods and traffic since the mid-18th century. I stood above one of the mid-stream cutwaters that help steer the river flow and watched the water sweep around the shoals below the bridge, then turned eastwards to see if I could catch a glimpse of the abbey through the trees.
For the Cistercian monks who founded it, the site for Cymer Abbey – located near fresh water, fishing and good pasture – must have seemed an obvious choice. Established in 1198, it never gained the wealth and degree of patronage achieved by some other abbeys, perhaps appropriately for an order based on asceticism, and well before the dissolution it was already in decline.
On this bright morning I was the only visitor to the ruins of the abbey and, walking carefully around the clumps of snowdrops in the turf, I explored the remaining walls while robins sang piercingly from the beech hedges. Characteristic arches and some sandstone carvings survive from the small, simple buildings, and I sat in the sunshine within the walls pondering – not for the first time – whether I would have survived the rigours of medieval monastic life.
To the south, the ridges of the Cadair Idris range hung behind the trees, and patches of snow are still visible on the upper slopes. As I walked back towards the bridge, the profiles of the summit, a lower ridge and the nearby woodland canopy aligned to form a repeating pattern. The illusion of sweeping waves was profound, yet only visible from one corner of the path, and I wondered how many monks had paused there to remark upon it.
