by Gordon Darby
Gwen looked out of the bedroom window and saw leaden clouds drift languidly over the high ground, darkening the valley below. The seven tiers of stone terraced houses, perched along the mountain side, looked drabber than ever in the eerie light. A strong wind blew through the valley forcing smoke from the many chimneys down into the street, and into pedestrians’ faces.
Several people perambulated on both sides of the street to the rhythmical click of miners’ boots. The shabbily dressed men were either going to, or returning from the colliery. Some of the women folk stood in doorways; arms folded across their chests; their long skirts and aprons flapping in the breeze. They either greeted, or waved farewell to their men folk. Apart from the click of men’s boots, the noise of the wind, hardly a sound disturbed the sleepy village. Even the greenery of the surrounding mountains did little to inspire the imagination of such a place as Maerdy. [Here is a sketch by Gordon, from his story 'The Old Gate'.]
Gwen looked out of the bedroom window and saw leaden clouds drift languidly over the high ground, darkening the valley below. The seven tiers of stone terraced houses, perched along the mountain side, looked drabber than ever in the eerie light. A strong wind blew through the valley forcing smoke from the many chimneys down into the street, and into pedestrians’ faces.
Several people perambulated on both sides of the street to the rhythmical click of miners’ boots. The shabbily dressed men were either going to, or returning from the colliery. Some of the women folk stood in doorways; arms folded across their chests; their long skirts and aprons flapping in the breeze. They either greeted, or waved farewell to their men folk. Apart from the click of men’s boots, the noise of the wind, hardly a sound disturbed the sleepy village. Even the greenery of the surrounding mountains did little to inspire the imagination of such a place as Maerdy. [Here is a sketch by Gordon, from his story 'The Old Gate'.]
© Gordon Darby 2005
Gordon Darby is a widower, a grandfather and retired commercial artist with especial interest in wildlife and nature. He feels very strongly that the taboos and conventions of the past inhibited his learning and now that he has a computer, lots of confidence, and the world at his fingertips with the Internet there’s no stopping him. He just wishes his dear wife could be with him to share the 21st Century.
