Old Oaks

We often eat lunch on the bench in front of Penrice church. It’s peaceful, with a view of the sea, and few people pass along the path leading down to Oxwich. After rain, we make our way down the muddy lane to the meadow below, where lines of ancient oaks mark boundaries of long-gone hedgerows. Under the branches of one, churned up muddy ground marks the spot where cattle shelter from the elements. The poorly drained land is only dry in high summer and feels old, as if from another age. After a dry summer, a pond dug by the farmer is gradually filling, and still attracts common darter and southern hawker dragonflies. As the sun comes out, red admirals take to the wing, settling on the small island in the middle of the pond.

Winter is still some way off, and the long dry summer seems an age away now, but water already flows along the footpath through the corner of Abraham’s wood. This walk will become more difficult as the season progresses. Peacock butterflies feed on the few ripe blackberries, and speckled woods rest on ivy in sunny glades. The odd red campion peeps out from the undergrowth, but there is little colour left on the woodland floor.

The sun breaks out again as I climb the stile into the meadow dividing Pittsog’s Wood from Oxwich Marsh, where  again, isolated old oaks define the landscape. A slight breeze sends waves across the top of blond grass, sloping gently down to the marsh. Thistles, some shoulder high and mostly covered in seeds, dot the field are a bonanza for noisy goldfinches, and it’s been a very good year for these lovely little finches, which will gather into large flocks in the coming weeks.

It’s still a good walk to Oxwich village and I think better of it. The return brings swallows moving south, buzzards in the sky, and signs of badgers in the wood that I’d missed on the way down.