Sunday, June 24, 2012

Stones



Yesterday we walked down to the river I wanted to take photos of the gypsy ponies and their foals but they had all disappeared from the water meadows, maybe moved to other land or maybe because of the constant rain, the men were worried about the meadows flooding.  So feeling rather sad about it we wandered back, the river is full, water lilies are just starting to flower and we sat by the lock watching the dark silky water flow by.


Toadstools under a tree


I bought myself a bike last week, but on my first long ride out managed to fall into the hedge, because my legs gave way through tiredness ;), cutting my forehead rather badly so that I walked the last couple of minutes  back home my face covered in blood which gave LS a shock, but he very gently cleaned it up and it wasn't that bad and now I sport a beautiful black eye which I am rather proud of, examining it carefully every morning to see how it has progressed!
Lots of reading, Macfarlane got put to one side as an Oxfam purchase of Bill Bryson's Notes from a Small Country had to be read, still makes me giggle.  Then yesterday a book from a bookseller on Amazon fell through the letterbox - The Ancient Stones of Wales by Barber and Williams, 1989. So I have been dipping into this since yesterday, entranced by the old stones in black and white photos and finding out facts I never knew about them.
Did I not say something somewhere that books are like pathways leading you on, well today I found a verse of a poem by the Welsh poet Henry Vaughan in the book.  He was a mystical and religious poet from the 17th century, and I knew him from the fact that the Vaughans lived at Tretowers Court for a couple of centuries... The last verse quoted is as follows...

He knocks at all doors, strays and roams,
nay hath not so much wit as some stones have
which in the darkest nights point to their homes
By some hid sense their makers gave;
Man is the shuttle, to whose winding quest
And passage through these looms
God ordered motion, but Ordain'd no rest.

I love the idea of standing stones pointing the way home to our prehistoric ancestors, though of course present theories are more to do with alignments of the stones on the sun and moon on far distant mountains and valleys so maybe he was right.

Today is the actual day of Midsummer, and of course the rains continue with the winds blowing through the tree outside, though not the rattling gusts we have had last week.




3 comments:

  1. A wonderful posting and poem. It's pouring here as I write.

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  2. Sorry that you missed the gypsy horses and their foals, but higher ground may be safer for them in this grey, rainy summer.

    Some years ago we had a wet holiday in West Wales, where the standing stones seemed to haunt the landscape in Pembrokeshire clifftop fields.

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  3. Hi to you both, glad you enjoyed the poem Paula. Wet holidays in West Wales an all too often occurence DW but it is still lovely even in a soggy state.

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