Alongside the wood, a small river flows down to the sea from the cascading waterfall of Y Graig Ddu. Through the often stunted and twisted trees at its edge, the old farm of Tŷ Uchaf can be seen, no longer inhabited, but still worked by a local farmer. The sudden downpour of light on the fields created a vivid separation between the open higher ground and the cold,dark,tight-packed mass of trees behind me.Ty Uchaf was like a Wuthering Heights to me, dark windows looking out over the valley and a sense of harshness and foreboding about running a farm in this remote isolated valley.
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