Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back once more to the quiet thrum of the Pont-Y-Pandy woodlands. This entry takes me downstream along a place I’ve walked before but never quite like this. The focus this time was the Nant-Yr-Aber, starting at the passover beneath the A469 in Caerphilly. And it was there, beneath the drone of passing cars, that I found something not just damaged but deeply changed.

Where the River Shows Its Scars

As I stepped into the shallow course, it was immediately clear how fragile the waterway had become. Visual damage from erosion was evident, carved into the banks like old wounds reopened. And scattered throughout the streambed was a thick body of debris fallen branches, broken fencing, plastic waste all tangled in the current, some half-buried, some drifting, and all slowing the river’s natural rhythm. Exploring the channel wasn’t easy. In fact, it was hazardous. I had to move with care, feeling each step before taking it, slowly navigating through slippery stone and tangle. There were places I had to stop entirely paths blocked by mass and time. But I pressed on, not for the sake of distance, but for understanding.

Listening to the Water’s Silence

From the banks, the river might seem alive and flowing. But from inside, I could feel how much of it was struggling. The damage wasn’t just surface-deep it ran beneath. Beneath the visible erosion, the water had lost something harder to describe. It felt quieter. Not in sound, but in spirit. There was a sadness to it. A weight. The kind of feeling that only comes from knowing something is fading. What struck me most wasn’t just what had been lost but how much was still being missed by those not paying attention.

Why Exploration Matters

This wasn’t just a walk. It was a practice of awareness. And if I’ve learned anything from my time in these woodlands, it’s that you cannot heal what you haven’t truly seen. The full scale of damage here is still unknown. And that’s the point. This journey reminded me that restoring a river isn’t something done in documents or on screens. It starts by being in it. By walking it. By listening to it. I believe we need to prepare not only for the restoration itself but for the process of understanding the river on its own terms.

A Final Reflection

I didn’t come here with a solution in hand. I came to observe. To feel. To notice what might otherwise be ignored. The river didn’t shout. It didn’t scream. It simply showed me what it had carried for too long. And I offer this blog in response not just to document, but to remember. To remember that healing is possible, but only if we begin by standing in the stream and letting it speak.

Ladies and Gentlemen, until the next time... Take care.
Michael “Druid” Thomas
Lunacare Cymru | Media - Blog.