An ode to the Nant Ffrwd

The Nant Ffrwd spills from the Coity’s crown,

a silver sigh through moss-green stone,

threading down a steep-sided valley

where autumn trees ignite and glow.

Their leaves fire gold against the wind,

reds like sparks on bark-dark air;

each gust shakes loose a swirling chorus,

confetti on the water’s prayer.

Old mine tips brood along the banks,

slag heaps slouched like giants’ graves,

rusted ruins of iron dreams

where echoes linger in forgotten caves.

Past workings left by coal-dust hands,

the river whispers history’s name,

washing picks and anvils clean—

time softening industry’s flame.

Then suddenly, the water falters,

slips beneath a limestone grin;

a secret door clicks shut behind her,

the mountain swallows her rushing skin.

In underground cathedrals, vaulted,

she hums a hymn through dripping halls,

brushing fossils like braille-etched prayers

on vanished creatures’ ancient walls.

Then out she bursts, reborn in daylight,

laughing at the sun’s surprise,

meandering on toward Afon Llwyd

with shimmering joy in newborn eyes.

Nant Ffrwyd, wild with memory,

a thread of history, leaf, and bone—

if you follow her from Coity’s shoulder,

she’ll show how rivers dream in stone.

Walk her banks when autumn brightens,

feel the quiet hills breathe deep;

for every valley keeps its secrets,

and the water promises to keep.

(Something a bit different for this post. new location and a poem -admittedly, I had some help from my AI assistant with a bit of prompting, but the inspiration, imagination, love of nature and photography are all mine)