Walking round to St Davids Head where once people lived in hut circles made from stone and thatch.
Here, at the end of the world Rosie sang a song. From here on there are only small islands and dragons. This is Earthsea.
And today, when I am out walking, I am all Wilding. My landscape is one made of stories.
We visit the tomb of the storyteller, history keeper of her people. Sometimes she whispers her secrets to me.
Then over the marshes that come straight out of Tolkein.
Back home Spittifer is so pleased to see me she falls over with delight ( taking a leaf out of Karin’s book.)
I stock up on honey from my neighbours house where the bees live. And then to work.