Thursday, 29 October 2009
Pic.1; Shrouded by Bright Fog © Glyn Davies 2009
I'd been beckoned by Carn Kenidjack before and this week it was no different. Yesterday a fleeting beam of intense sunlight alighted upon it's summit for no more than a few seconds, reminding me that it was there, awaiting my next visit.
This morning as we drove up from Trewellard, the hill fog became thicker and darker, the landscape becoming more surreal by the minute. We parked up started walking up a wet, rutted and potholed track to a tor we could not see, in fact we couldn't even see the hillside on which it stands guard! Several unusual heads on long necks followed us in the mist as we walked past a lama field! We hunted for an inscribed stone, marked on the OS map as such but nothing gave itself up, especially in these conditions. The brambles were past their prime and glistened red against a watery green landscape. The granite walls and gateposts dripped with the condensing fog and the puddles acted as mirrors, the only pools of light in a dark damp foreground. We knew we were at the summit but it took a few minutes, remaining motionless before the faintest dark outline of this magical structure of eroding granite blinked at us. We headed towards it's shadow and gradually the whole form took shape ahead of the sodden track on which we walked.
It's dark presence meant that the bright swirls of fast moving fog were even more obvious, spiriting themselves through the nooks and crannies of it's skeleton on their route to the far coast. It was silent up there, save for the sound of the wind funnelling through its cracks. We were alone and it was eerily beautiful, totally cut off from any connection with the surrounding landscape. The rock was slippery and wet but the lee-side of the crag afforded us some temporary shelter from the strong winds and driving damp. We drank coffee and ate banana and jam sandwiches in the shelter before finally heading off back into the void. It was fun to imagine that like a ghost ship, this quiet beautiful surreal looking vessel of rock only appears in the fog to those who choose to see, but that's just dreaming isn't it ?
Pic.2; The Author, High on the Fog
I must admit that after my nude against the tree shot in Portugal last week, the atmosphere this morning, and the surrealism of the situation was crying out for a nude on these rocks, natural and in tune with these ancient, but Carol was totally NOT up for braving the elements this time, and I can't say I blame her :-) I am now on the look out for hardy models prepared to brave all at a moments notice in any part of Wales or the South West! :-)) Replies welcome!
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