Walking the path at Pwll Du to a sunrise

 I walked along the old tram road in Pwll Du beneath brooding dark clouds, all around me, save for one striking exception. Ahead, the path was illuminated by an inviting, warm glow rising from the eastern horizon. Above the slopes of Skirrid Fawr, the sky burned a deep, molten orange, heralding the beginning of a new day. A cold breeze lingered in the air, accompanied by a fine, persistent drizzle.

It felt as though a wrestling match was unfolding in the heavens above. The remnants of a low-pressure system in the west were pushing back against a high-pressure front advancing from the east. The front line of this silent battle lay directly ahead, towards the viewpoint on Gilwern Hill.

I had made the conscious decision to leave almost all of my camera equipment in the car. The sky looked unsettled, and while my heart longed for a glorious sunrise, my head told me the dark clouds would likely win and spoil the morning.

The wind and drizzle grounded my drone, and I had chosen not to bring one of my landscape cameras. Instead, I travelled light, carrying only my Apple iPhone 13 Pro. Freed from the usual burden of a rucksack full of kit, I found myself enjoying a gentle, unhurried stroll towards that teasing promise of light.

The wooded slopes of Pwll Du, steeply descending into the valley, were alive with birdsong. The dawn chorus was simply magnificent. Wrens, Blackbirds, Song Thrushes and even a distant Cuckoo—provided a rich, layered soundtrack that accompanied me along the path.

As the track passed the old limestone quarries and curved around the hill crowned with masts, I reached what I think of as the viewpoint. Here, small hillocks and mounds rise beside the path, perfect places to pause and take in the sweeping views across Gilwern and Abergavenny.

From this vantage point, the peaks of the Sugar Loaf, Skirrid Fawr, and the Blorenge reveal themselves in what I consider one of the most spectacular panoramas in all of Wales.

Standing there, waiting for dawn, my mind felt clear and uncluttered. My lungs filled with cool, invigorating air, yet my heart raced with anticipation. A bright glow began to form low on the horizon between the Skirrid and the Blorenge. The dark clouds, at last, were losing their battle to smother the light of the new day.

Moments later, the sun broke free, an orange fireball rising steadily, pushing back the cold and banishing the darkness. Its warmth touched my cheeks, and the scene before me was nothing short of breathtaking.

Watch the sunrise and listen to the birds singing :

I began my walk back along the path with a quiet smile. I felt re-energised, filled with a sense of purpose and enthusiasm, ready to take on whatever the day might bring. I lingered often, pausing to savour the moment and capture a few more photographs.

There was still more to come. I had a rendezvous with my good friend Paul Joy on the Blorenge. Today, we would try to find a Cuckoo to photograph—though that is a story for another post.