Forest Farm

It was a day like Spring, a perfect day for a cycle ride. I said to my trusty companion: "Let's go out on the bikes." Piglet of course said: "No, no-o-o-o! agh agh no! I had exercise today, I don't wanna go out, wah wah." I was obdurate so we set off in the wash of pale cold sunshine. 

Forest Farm is just by the Taff Trail. Bygone agricultural methods are tried out there in a casual sort of way, they seem to be making charcoal as this used to be a staple industry in the area. However on a cold Sunday in February it was locked up and at first Piglet gleefully said we would just have to go home. I found a gate with a chain only looped round it at the side, so we ventured in. The paths were empty of people and there were snowdrops dotted here and there. It was very peaceful. 

By the time we had had a pleasant meander, Piglet was of course keen to go further so we cycled along the Taff Trail to the pebble beach under the weir. The trail was crowded with people but Piglet considerately rang her bell loudly in their ears to warn them she was about to crash into them. Catkins have come out already.