Meadow Cottage

3rd and 4th August 2013

    Venus and the young Moon rose together, hand in hand. Orion placed Rigel carefully and tiptoed across the pale dawning sky until Sól washed away the celestial travellers.
    The stone cottage, hidden away, sits on the side of a hill, overlooking a valley eastward toward Llandovery. Wild flowers in the garden perfume the still summer air; Meadowsweet, Mallow, Iris, Indian Balsam and bright yellow Agrimony are sheltered by Hazel, Holly and Ash with ferns greening the earth, under. On the bank at the side, old twisted bitter-apple trees meander toward the Sun and Honeysuckle and roses beautify the perimeter fence.
    A spring trickles through it all, clear and fresh, searching for y Afon Mynys in the valley below. Birds can bathe here, a safe, secret place. Blue Tits, Great Tits, Dunnocks and Nuthatches queued on the branches, politely waiting for their turn on the bird-table. Then Mr Grey Squirrel rudely chased off the rightful feeders, giving Americans a bad name. Another came; he tapped the window, asking to enter. How rude!
    In the meadow before us, sheep with black faces and knees (Beulah Speckled Face Sheep), recently shorn, graze peacefully, uncaring; perhaps a little curious of our presence, but then continue to graze. A pond, lined with Iris and reed is the host to dragonflies darting here and there, looking for special places to lay eggs; and damselflies, slender and delicate, of the brightest blue. Fish ripple the surface and Skaters defy drowning, dimpling the water.
    It was warm, peaceful and idyllic.
    Then it rained. And it didn't stop. A short walk was taken up the hill with the gang above Penrhiw in the rain; every step a reminder of my limited breath. Rosebay Willowherb is everywhere; as is yellow and purple Vetch, and teeny yellow flowers of some sort, but so pretty. Most exciting of all, ripe raspberries! Then back to the cottage for a desperate change of clothing and some refreshment awaiting us at the big house.