Talking to strangers

People often joke about the weather here in Pembrokeshire. Often it is best to ignore the forecast and just wait to see what the day will bring. Well yesterday started slow but then delivered glorious sunshine and some intense warmth. So, I decided to drive up to Nevern about 40 minutes away as there were some memorials in the church there that I wanted to search out. I've been a few times before but my interest had been piqued by a book I'd found about unusual memorial stones in Wales and I had to see for myself. The route I take goes over the Preseli hills and as I drove higher I left the sunshine behind. It got mistier and mistier until I was driving with full headlights in the middle of the day. Coming through the other side of the hills I decided to do a short detour to Pentre Ifan, set in the shade of the Carn Ingli ridge and, as you can see, Carn Ingli was shrouded in that mist I'd just driven through. Down the valley you could see the sun in Fishguard Bay but it was dull up there on the hillside.

Pentre Ifan is a wonderful Neolithic burial chamber. I never know the correct term for them. I call it a cromlech but it is also known as a dolmen or quoit I think. It dates from about 3500BC to 4000BC so it is a Bronze Age megalithic site. The Preselis are said to be the site of the bluestones for Stonehenge but how on earth they moved from here to Wiltshire is still a mystery.

The chamber has a huge capstone delicately poised on three uprights and, given that it weighs about 16 tons you have to wonder how it constructed and how it has survived the centuries.There were only a handful of visitors there but I got chatting to a couple on holiday from Denmark. They were remarking on our odd weather whilst sat on a stone, shivering and eating their lunch. They were touring the area looking for the unusual and I told them where I was heading, recommending it for a quick detour, because within a short drive is the church of St Brynach at Nevern.

I love these mounting blocks outside. I think there are only a couple of these left locally and they are a relic of a time when parishioners rode to church on horseback and needed to dismount! The entrance to the church is through an avenue of yews. If my memory serves there is a story about them being an avenue of weeping yews but it is obvious they are hundreds of years old. They have thick, sinewy trunks and branches and they cast a strange light over the path. The sunshine had disappeared and the air was absolutely still. There were quite a few visitors around in the graveyard although the church itself was empty when I went in. I was inside for about a quarter of an hour and no-one came in. It was quite wonderful.

Most people go inside St Brynach's to see the Maglocunus Stone which is set into one of the windows. It is a stone incised with Ogham Script made by strokes or notches across the edge of a stone. The date for this is about 5th century AD and is one of the earliest recorded languages. Outside is another stone called the Vitialanus Stone dating from the same period. I took a photograph but the incisions were very hard to see. A sign perhaps of all the centuries of Pembrokeshire weather.

People are also drawn to see the Great Cross. We are lucky to have two wonderful examples of Celtic crosses here. One is just down the road from the village we live in and the other is here. This is dated from the 10th or 11th century and each of the four sides has the compartments carved into it each of which contain a differently arranged ribbon, the endless interlacing symbol of eternity. It also contains inscriptions in another alphabet found in the earliest British writing so for anyone interested in language this is magic place to visit.

I particularly loved the coating on the top of the cross caused by years and years of the sap coming off the yew trees and then getting covered in lichen. All of the windowsills on the tree side of the church were all an amazing golden rusty colour. By now I had got chatting to an American couple and their son also over here touring the old sites. I remember the old adage of never talking to strangers but when someone catches your eye and you know they want to speak I always think it is rude to turn away. They were fascinated by the place and the age of most of the headstones so I told them what I had come to look for and they were as intrigued as I was.

Along the edge of the churchyard are a series of family vaults. Memorial tablets are set into the walls and small family headstones are set around each little plot. Some were delineated by little rusted metal posts, others by small stone walls and the one I was searching for had steps leading up to it. I had come to find the stone for the family of the Revd. Griffiths who was vicar here in the 18th century. He had married into the family of the local gentry, the Bowens. There were Bowen and Griffiths memorials all over the graveyard but the stone I wanted showed the sad deaths of Anna Letitia and George Griffiths, the infant children of Revd. Griffiths who died in 1794.

It was not that easy to read but it says:

'They tasted of life's bitter cup,

Refused to drink the potion up,

But turned their little heads aside,

Disgusted with the taste , and died'

I think that is absolutely wonderful and I took thin paper and a graphite stick with me to try and make a copy. My paper was too narrow but I managed to get it all rubbed down in smaller pieces. Now I just have to join it together somehow. It's going into my sketchbook and I hope to use it to inform some ideas I have brewing in my head. Sadly, Anna and George were not the only infants that died in the Reverend's family. Here's a rubbing of one of them. I was just so taken with the name. The afternoon served to remind me again - as if I need reminding - that the most interesting things are often on our doorstep. Talking to strangers visiting here from abroad also reminded me why I love living here. On the way out I noticed another grave that intrigued me but access was not great. I was wrestling with my pad of papers and my hands were black with graphite so I went off to the local loos and cleaned up and then forgot to go back into the churchyard to have a closer look. You know what that means.... another visit is already planned!