|St.Dogmael's Church, Mynachlogddu|
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See; The Book of Welsh Saints.
As it is tulip time this beautiful example would have cost you the price of a house in the 17th century, there were only 12 bulbs at the time. And if you want to see tulips in all their splendour, 27 thousand bulbs planted this year at Pashley Manor in Sussex. They actually dig up all the bulbs after one planting and distribute them to charities and then start afresh the next year!
As the family is coming this weekend, my time on the computer will be restricted, which is no bad thing. Shocked by the trivia of antisemitism on the media at the moment, when other parts of the world are in such dire straits. Cross at The Guardian for doing a feature on "The Wild" how can it continue to be wild if it is publicised for people to go and tramp it into the ground - or am I being mean? And so to a poem, for a bird that is fast disappearing, though I have learnt that there are at least two barn owls and the tawny owl in the village.
Cuckoos by Andrew Young
When Coltsfoot withers and begins to wear
Long silver locks instead of golden hair,
And fat red catkins from black poplars fall
And on the ground like caterpillars crawl,
And bracken lifts up slender arms and wrists
And stretches them, unfolding sleepy fists,
The cuckoo in a few well-chosen words
Tell they give Easter eggs to the small birds