Trenarth Bridge

I’m sat on a small, old stone bridge looking out at the creek in front of me, with water trickling under my feet as they dangle a metre or two above the minnows and tadpoles playing below.

I’m also watching a heron fishing, statue-like as it waits to strike and catch its supper. On the creek, a small boat drifts aimlessly tugged by the rising tide.

This is Trenarth Bridge, near Mawnan Smith, a backwater (literally) accessed by three steep lanes and a footpath which climbs up above the cottage that overlooks the water.

It’s the type of place where you might expect a horse and cart to appear such is the timeless nature of this sunny, quiet spot.

It’s one of my favourite spots for doing nothing, preferably with a drink in hand enjoying the view with my friend the heron.