What is it about mountains that so calls to the human spirit? I believe they give us glimpses of transcendence, a window to a reality that is greater than ourselves, that we rarely see in the hustle and bustle of daily life. They point us to the mystery and infinity of God. Their sweeping contours, soaring peaks and sheer vastness remind us of our finitude and smallness in the face of an unimaginably greater Being who surrounds us all, but who's continuing presence we can so easily fail to appreciate. Their unchanging nature also speaks of the eternal character of God, who doesn’t change, whatever turbulent times and changing scenes we may be going through. Time and again throughout a busy professional life I’ve returned to the hills to be nourished and restored by their peace and beauty. I'm sure it's significant that Jesus ‘went out to a mountain to pray’ (Luke 6:12), so He could be strengthened to continue to show God's love to a hurting world.
My love of mountains began as a result of my grandfather taking me on walks in the hills above the Rhondda valley in South Wales, and was cemented when on a walking holiday in the Austrian Alps with school friends as a teenager. Since then I’ve been fortunate enough to walk and climb in most of the major mountain ranges of Great Britain, as well as to go on a few expeditions in the Alps and Himalayas. I first discovered the Black Mountains in 1974, and began exploring them thoroughly when living in Abergavenny between 1977 and 1980. Ever since I’ve returned regularly to walk their many paths, alone or with a friend or two, and now in retirement live in Abergavenny once again, so I am privileged to regularly enjoy the peace and solitude that they afford.
Of course, photographs cannot capture the real nature of the mountain experience. They cannot truly convey the roar of the wind and the sting of the rain at high altitude, the swirling murkiness of thick cloud around sheer rock, the joy of warm sunlight on an elevated ridge. Nevertheless, they can stir the heart a little with images of the magnificent Creation that the mountains display. It is to that end that this site is dedicated.
My love of mountains began as a result of my grandfather taking me on walks in the hills above the Rhondda valley in South Wales, and was cemented when on a walking holiday in the Austrian Alps with school friends as a teenager. Since then I’ve been fortunate enough to walk and climb in most of the major mountain ranges of Great Britain, as well as to go on a few expeditions in the Alps and Himalayas. I first discovered the Black Mountains in 1974, and began exploring them thoroughly when living in Abergavenny between 1977 and 1980. Ever since I’ve returned regularly to walk their many paths, alone or with a friend or two, and now in retirement live in Abergavenny once again, so I am privileged to regularly enjoy the peace and solitude that they afford.
Of course, photographs cannot capture the real nature of the mountain experience. They cannot truly convey the roar of the wind and the sting of the rain at high altitude, the swirling murkiness of thick cloud around sheer rock, the joy of warm sunlight on an elevated ridge. Nevertheless, they can stir the heart a little with images of the magnificent Creation that the mountains display. It is to that end that this site is dedicated.
Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
Where from distress a refuge might be found,
And solitude prepare the soul for heaven;
Sure, nature's God that spot to man had given
Where falls the purple morning far and wide
In flakes of light upon the mountain-side..
(William Wordsworth)
Black Mountain Walk
I walk
Where mountain streams tumble over rock and soil, making their special, peaceful music
Where purple heather blooms and bracken glistens greenly in the summer sun
Where the high ridge soars against the sky and Red Kites float lazily above
Where the distant vistas of peaks and valleys stretch the soul towards the infinite
I walk
Where mountain streams tumble over rock and soil, making their special, peaceful music
Where purple heather blooms and bracken glistens greenly in the summer sun
Where the high ridge soars against the sky and Red Kites float lazily above
Where the distant vistas of peaks and valleys stretch the soul towards the infinite
Come walk with me
Over style, across field, through woods, up onto the bare mountain shoulder
Push on through shortened breath and aching limb to where persistence
Gains the ridge and all Creation seems spread beneath
Here silence reigns and stillness lifts the mind above the cares and stresses left below
If you listen carefully, you may even hear the heart beat of God
Pulsing through your own veins.
Huw Morgan
Over style, across field, through woods, up onto the bare mountain shoulder
Push on through shortened breath and aching limb to where persistence
Gains the ridge and all Creation seems spread beneath
Here silence reigns and stillness lifts the mind above the cares and stresses left below
If you listen carefully, you may even hear the heart beat of God
Pulsing through your own veins.
Huw Morgan