Memories

Moss long gone but a faithful companion always remembered.  Here drawn by Em Parkinson.

Moss: A memory came up once again on F/B.  My friend said I remember when Moss ate the  Zwartbles.  Not a word for Wordle, which I only obtained at the sixth go  this morning.    Zwartbles are a breed of sheep that come from New Zealand and we had collected a couple of fleeces from the car park of St. Edwards School in Bath, the sheep must have belonged to one of the teachers.  We took them home and laid them out on the patio and Moss of course became interested. They eventually ended up being thrown away as to messy and dirty too spin.

Moss was the one who took me out on walks, accompanied me all round the different archaeological sites I visited whilst on holiday.  He was a sensible intelligent sheep dog and once over his wild teenager years settled down into an insistent ball catcher. 

I had answered a paper advertisement (remember those?) and drove out into the middle of the countryside to a cottage. No one at  home, but a little pen of delightful puppies by the front door.  She eventually came home, I parted with £50 and my small beautiful merle Moss came home.

We traversed St. David's Head together and all around that area, he always chose the right path through bracken or gorse and I was never afraid with him at my side.  I remember him biting the bum of a man at St. Non's chapel because Moss thought he was protecting me.  Rather red faced I offered an apology to the man, but he said, it was alright, the dog was only protecting me.

The walk from Solva to Middle Mill.  I wonder if it was an old waterway or even a sunken lane.  It had a 'witchy' air to it

Moss sits at rest, there are two cromlechs here on Carn Lidl.  Only to be found if you see the lookout concrete platform from WW2.  It was an archeologist called Grimes who sited the temporary airfields used during the war both in this area and Bath.

Carreg Samson Cromlech was behind us here as we looked out onto this island.

Preseli mountains, just below us and something I missed was the horseshoe ring of stones called Bedd Arthur.  See Here

Saint David's Camp, looking though the fallen defence walls back to Carn Llidl

We wandered over the Preseli mountains without a care, unafraid of the horses let loose, the only thing that had really frightened Moss in Bath was an electric fence, put up to keep the cows with their calves out of the way of people walking on the public footpath at the racecourse.  He would not go any near an electric fence, leaving me and taking a quarter mile detour till we met up again.

And lastly, but not the only one, the beautiful chunky cromlech called Carreg Samson.  See how the capstone balances delicately on the tips of the uprights and just feel a little humility when we refer laughingly to the Flintstones of prehistoric times....