We enjoyed fabulous family holidays in Pembrokeshire when
the children were small. I’ve mentioned before that we were fortunate to have
the use of a static caravan on a private site near Saundersfoot, thanks to the
generosity of family members. Every August we loaded up the car, secured luggage
on the roof rack, and set off on the lengthy journey. It took most of the day.
We aimed for a picnic lunch at Bala, a break at Aberaeron, then onward in time
to catch the Co-op at Narberth for some groceries. If we missed it, there was
the Spar shop in Saundersfoot where we could buy essentials, but first it would
be a chippy tea either in the café or on the harbour. It was a bit quicker on
the motorway, but it took us miles away and where’s the fun in that? There’s a
‘harem scarem’ road through the southern parts of Snowdonia with a sheer drop
down one side and warnings of falling rock that we wouldn’t want to miss for
the world. It would be dusk by the time we arrived, more often than not. It was lovely to unpack and settle in, listen
to the sounds of the sea and look forward to the days ahead. The children,
excited as they were, couldn’t wait to sleep in the narrow beds in their tiny
caravan bedroom.
Safe beaches, clear water to paddle in and lots of time to
play. Folly Farm, the Dinosaur Park and all the castles we could find. Every day was an adventure and it was good to
re-visit favourite places, especially some literary interest. Laugharne, on the River Taf estuary in
Carmarthenshire is the home and resting place of Dylan Thomas. I could imagine
him looking out from the windows of the Boat House, watching the night tide
slowly fill the river and seeing beyond the castle to the flicker of faint lights
in the houses of the town as the darkness came. Under Milk Wood. I can hear his
voice. Well, Richard Burton then, but it’s Dylan’s rich vocabulary.
After a busy,
fun-filled day it was perfect to relax with an ‘after tea’ ice-cream on
Saundersfoot harbour as the sun disappeared into the hills behind us. With the
heat of the day gone and the air feeling fresh it was comfortable to wander
around the seafront, or go on the beach and dip our toes at the water’s edge. We
might walk along to the far end of the harbour where the local fishermen were
casting their lines over the height of the sea wall hoping for a plentiful
evening catch.
Quiet evenings, relaxing on the patio, watching the birds
fly home, looking for the bats that live in the woods and planning the day
ahead, then contented sleeping children.
Photos from my own collection.
I love the humour in Under Milk Wood.
Rev. Eli Jenkins -
Sun-down
Every morning when I wake,
Dear Lord, a little prayer I
make,
O please to keep Thy lovely eye
On all poor creatures born to
die.
And every evening at sun-down
I ask a blessing on the town,
For whether we last the night or no
I’m sure is always touch and go.
We are not wholly bad or good
Who live our lives under Milk
Wood,
And Thou, I know, wilt be the
first
To see our best side, not our
worst.
O let us see another day!
Bless us this holy night, I pray,
And to the sun we all will bow
And say goodbye – but just for
now!
Dylan Thomas, from Under Milk
Wood
1 comments:
Always like a bit of Dylan Thomas :-)
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