A Winter's Walk in December 2013

Outside of the window late autumn leaves still lie on the ground, but with winter’s cold now starting to bight they shine with frost in the early morning sunlight. Skies clear the air unbelievably crisp and pure, the atmosphere incredibly still; there is hardly a sound to be heard and no movement to be seen. Turning seasons, yesterday a late autumn’s evening today, an early winter’s dawn.

This bright, cold, day is ideal for walking the quiet paths of Linn Park. Crisp leaves crunch under one’s boots, the only sound to be heard in the time before the world awakens, sounds that hardly disturb the stillness of this early winter’s morning. Who would wish to disturb such stillness?

There once was a mill here. Powered by the waters of the river it worked and provided jobs for well over a hundred years. But now there are only a few hints of what was; faint outlines of some of the working areas, a few broken down walls all hidden below the undergrowth that has taken hold since its closure. This path must have been busy at one time with men and women coming and going from their mill jobs. The path is now quiet, 

the water more tranquil, but the same river still flows and many of the trees that surrounded this place then, remain today. The path narrow and always changing, yesterday busy, today quiet and tranquil; yesterday’s people rushing to work to keep a roof over their families heads, today’s people enjoying the simple tranquillity of a stroll along
the path.

A full day out, but at this time of the year nightfall comes early and quickly. The cold air is brilliantly clear, the sky cloudless allowing the moon to flood the path ahead in a silvery light. Bright and clear, the moon shines through the trees of the lower pinewood casting deep and mysterious shadows, as the first frost of night starts to form
and twinkle.

A narrow path, a cold winter’s morning and a bright frosty evening; slowly moving waters, statuesque and austere pines, there is no end to the beauties of this wild park.