I started up the side of the mountain. Road gave way to path, ride gave way to run. The bike was hoisted onto shoulder. I could feel the wind slowly picking up, gathering speed, garnering strength. A serene blue sky was slowly being absorbed by the darkest of cloud and a trailing rainbow. Huge spots of rain peppered the path, then steps, then fell. Cresting the top, the view revealed the drama of the sagas. A squall thrashed the Bristol Channel. Storm clouds lay siege to the distant Beacons. Brynna windfarm awaited it’s fate. Satisfied with its brief and concentrated work, the wind withdrew. The rain drops ceased. I stood at the top of an ancient burial mound in almost total silence and admired the work of the gods. This is what Valhalla must look like.
Unbelievable weather and views at the top of the Garth yesterday evening. Beautiful skies graced with dramatic clouds and rainbows. The perfect cyclo-cross riposte to a testing day. Picture taken on my raspberry. Valhalla Image (below) via the Brooklyn Brewery.