And here by the path on Hoar Stones Brow,
I find a large, black feather. Crow rudder.
The only testimony – on this blank morning –
that the air bore something on its back.
Lifted high on its shoulders. Singing.
|Illustration by David McConochie Photograph: The Art Market|
The book I am reading, "Candlenight" by Phil Rickman, has a scary theme but then it is fiction, a delicious need to frighten oneself! And strangely part of the plot is English people in Wales, and learning the Welsh language.It seems a long time ago when 'English' holiday homes were set alight by the Welsh, now the Welsh language is part of the curriculum and life seems to have quietened down.
The other link was how to put on an Iron Age torc, the article in a blog on the British Museum site. I suspect this was mostly male jewellery with perhaps powerful leader females wearing them as badges of office.