Caerbwdy, Pembrokeshire
14th April
(Caerbwdy, Pembrokeshire, 2007)
Violets electric blue in the half light; dense misty haze but blueing sky above placing its tones in the petal of a flower.
Down on the rocky beach, gentle waves and, louder, skylarks from above, over fields out of sight.
Water trickling loud under stones, the pebble beach dry, the pitched trickle oddly resonant from somewhere beneath the rounded stones.
Each morning, jackdaws nest-building in Cathedral niches. One pair in particular I notice daily, bringing long sticks up through ancient stone slats, sloping steeply, and each morning, after lugging the lengthy twig through the gap and following, then seeing the same twig slide out and fall to the ground, followed by the confused head of the jackdaw, looking less distressed (as a human would be) than simply perplexed.
Early in the cloisters, greeting a passing pair. “Good morning vicar!“ he jovially replies, an undercurrent of Oxbridge tones I think. I’m not the vicar, of course, but with a dark jumper and white collar protruding, it is intriguing how swiftly the thought was conceived. I am amused and, like the jackdaw, perplexed.