Mitchell’s Fold

Visited 8.4.2011. First, a little preface. My only other visit to Mitchell’s Fold was in August 1999, when I came with my Dad. It turned out to be our last day out together, as he died a few months later. Along with a visit earlier the same week to Four Stones, I treasure those days out, as we were probably closer then than we had been for a long time.

So, as I walk down Stapeley Hill, eager to get to the circle, I am suddenly hit by a powerful and unexpected wave of emotion. And it turns out to be anger. Anger that my Dad stupidly let himself drop dead, so that he isn’t here to share these visits with me. Blimey, perhaps you don’t get over these things as much as you think. And then it’s gone, passing as quickly as it arrived, like clouds across the sky on a windy day.

And without further ado, the circle is upon me. Or I’m upon it, rather. Although my previous visit is remembered fondly, I also remember it being busy. And I don’t remember the circle being quite so brilliant. But today I have it under a clear blue sky, all to myself. This is a magnificent site. A spacious ring of stones, of varying sizes up to a slender pillar, taller than I am. Corndon Hill looms to the south, an obvious relationship. But over to the west, the panorama of Mid-Wales and southern Snowdonia, across to Cader Idris, makes for a truly jaw-dropping setting.

The nearby outlier and cairn add to the sense of this being part of a complex setting, but there’s too little left to give enough clues. But then that’s how we like it, perhaps.

I spend a long while in and around the circle, still in splendid isolation. Eventually I must leave, as there’s still the long climb up Corndon ahead and the sun is beating down fiercely. Cheers Dad, I’m only sorry you weren’t with me on such a lovely day.