The old lead mine at Allt-y-crib, which once spread across the hillside a short walk from the village of Tal-y-bont, has been abandoned for almost a hundred years. Much of the site is now covered with mixed woodland, but several large heaps of spoil are still visible from across the valley. These barren mounds of rock waste, still free from vegetation, are a memorial to the industry that dominated the economy of this area for many decades.
From the base of the woods, the path rose gently westward across the valley side, but became much less distinct as I approached the crest of the slope. Here, saplings grew unchecked in the middle of the path and rotted fallen trunks made progress slow and awkward. Later I realised that I had, not for the first time, taken a less favoured route when a much better one existed nearby.
The footpath across the wet grassland of the plateau beyond was unfrequented, judging by the cobwebs spun across the stiles and the reactions of surprise from the Welsh Black cattle I encountered. Deep grass and a rising breeze made my passage almost silent; in one marshy spot, dotted with soft rush, a snipe abruptly took flight right at my feet – curving away while its alarm call echoed back from the edge of the wood.
As I moved further west, the view of the Dyfi estuary began to open out. Far to the north-east, banks of cloud gathered over the hills toward Cadair Idris – but I still stood in full sunshine, the warmth of the afternoon light saturating the colours of the remaining oak leaves. Below the north-facing pasture and autumn hedgerows, the low expanse of Cors Fochno – labelled “The Great Bog” on historic maps – stood stark and uncompromising. While drainage and agriculture have chipped away at the edges of this wilderness over the centuries, a core of near-natural raised bog remains at its centre.
As I traversed the corner of the fen on my approach to the coast at Borth, the wind became colder and more insistent, rippling the surface of the Afon Leri – wider but less youthful than at Tal-y-bont – as I crossed it for the second time that day.
