Friday, July 22, 2016
The Welsh Valley Genius.
A day of short, sharp mountain storms. One squall following the other. Flashes of lightning and savage growls of thunder. The PONs get soaked to the skin.
Finally, Bob and Sophie opt to stay indoors. They're not frightened by storms but have a country dogs understanding that there's danger in the air.
Rug surfing , touch rugby and savaging 'Lamb' fill their day. There is also the occasional nap.
'The Font' has tracked down an early copy of the poem In Parenthesis as a birthday present. Words as music. Penned by David Jones, a poor Welsh Valley boy, gifted with a one in a billion mantle of genius.
We sit out late. I read aloud. Bob, convinced we're talking to him, lies by the pool - eyes closed - his tail waving. Sophie, ever independent, stares up at the young owls sitting on a high branch of the oak tree. They look bemusedly at her. She glares at their audacity. We laugh.
Here's Richard Burtons daughter talking about her fathers love for the poem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKLgbRna0hc
Passing villagers on evening strolls quietly wonder at these laughing poetry reading foreigners with their shaggy dogs.
*** Blogger doesn't not want to behave today. Have had to post as an add on to yesterday. Apolgies for the varying text sizes.