Was it Mungo Jerry who used to sing - "In the Summer time.........when the weather's fine"? Those who attended the Family Friendly Eucharist at the beginning of September will no doubt remember that Mungo is another name for St. Kentigern and is a name which means "dear friend".  He was indeed a dear friend to St. David - Dewi Sant (incidentally this Welsh version of Dafydd's name doesn't mean Saint David but David, son of Sant - St. Sant was his father and St. Non was his mother).  In the year 560 Mungo travelled, via Cumbria, away from his native Glasgow and went to the far south west of Wales to commune with St. David. As the Christian mission was going so well in that part of Wales he settled for a time in the north east of Wales at St. Asaph, so named after the saint who took over the ministry from Kentigern when he returned to Scotland.  There is still a public house in St. Asaph which bears Kentigern's name - a millennium and half after he first visited!

Anyway, Mungo Jerry certainly got it wrong this year - as we have endured a fairly dismal summer, weather wise.  Usually in the summer months I love to bathe in the North Sea - this year I haven't had a single dip therein.  Instead in the last week of August I took myself off to St. Deiniol's Residential Library, just over the Welsh Border from Chester at Hawarden - there, instead of immersing myself in sea water, I immersed myself in the writings of the Welsh poets.

Perhaps the two places in the British Isles that I love more than anywhere else are Durham and Wales.  If I were to be asked to chose Britain's Favourite View - I'd be hard pressed to choose between the view of Durham Cathedral from the banks of the River Wear and the coast of Pembrokeshire (well, perhaps, Durham would win out in the end - but after a great deal of deliberation!)  I enjoyed a marvellous week at the library, which was built in honour of Prime Minister Gladstone to house his vast collection of learned tomes,  (do you know why General Elections always take place on a Thursday in this country?  Well, the answer is that Thursday was early closing day in Hawarden, where Gladstone lived, thus enabling more folk from his home village to take part in the poll.) and many thousands of other volumes.  It is a bibliophile's paradise.

Incidentally, St. Deiniol was another of those Welsh Celtic saints.  Along with St. Dyfrig, he attended the Synod of Brefi, where St. David spoke so eloquently in the year 545.  People at the back couldn't see or hear the great saint so naturally the land miraculously rose up beneath his feet creating a hill which formed a marvellous pulpit.  In addition to being the patron saint of Wales - David is the patron saint of poets and doves.  He is often depicted with a dove on his shoulder - symbolising the Holy Spirit of God telling him what to do and what to say.  Incidentally, Llandewi Brefi is the same place that was put on the map in our own time by Matt Lucas in Little Britain when he acted the part of a rather flamboyant character.

Anyway, it was a real joy to go back to school in order to stimulate the old grey cells, and by the end of the week I was awash with the wonderful poems from the pen of some of the greatest of the Welsh religious poets - Euros Bowen, Waldo Williams, Saunders Lewis, Ann Griffiths and, of course, R. S. Thomas.  My favourite Welsh poet is Ronald Stuart Thomas and my life has been greatly enriched over the years by his poetry.  Having recently read two biographies about the great man I was delighted to read his autobiography at St. Deiniol's, which he called "Neb" (Nobody).  Some people find his work rather gloomy and depressing but I have never found it to be so. He was rather a shy, reclusive man and appeared to many people as quite abrasive but his love for his native land comes over and over again in his works.  In "Neb" he wrote "People will disappoint you, but Wales will never be unfaithful.  She is always there in all her unspotted virginity, despite all the atrocious things that we do to her."  He had a wonderful relationship with the land and here beautifully describes Cymru as a faithful virgin.

It was a great pleasure to revisit the poetic hymns of the mystical writer - Ann Griffiths, who died in 1805.  For many years she was faithful in her attendance at the Church of Wales (this was, of course, prior to Disestablishment when it became the Church in Wales).  Following a deep religious experience she transferred her allegiance to the Methodists, who, at that time offered a far more charismatic form of worship than the Established Church.  However, her dog who had accompanied her and the family for many years to church, declined to attend the chapel and continued to go Sunday by Sunday to the parish church.  Now how about that for loyalty!  Well done "Fido".

Of all the poems that I read in Wales the one that stood out most was by Saunders Lewis and was called "St. David's Last Sermon".  He bases this poem on his staunch Welsh Nationalism and Rhygyfarch's "Life of David" and includes some marvellous words with which I shall conclude these Welsh ramblings:-

"Keep the faith, and do the little things

You have seen and heard from me."
 

Every Blessing,

Father David