Wednesday, 29th May
Jorna perfeth ewa hedhyw rag obery et ow lowarth. Nag ew an gewer yeyn ha nag ew hei re dòbm naneyl. Nag eus glaw bes ma ligyn dhort an mor. Na ellama gweles an prasow a-bell en hons dhe’n gwedh. Ma cornel an lowarth neb ew overdevys ha res ew dhebm trehy dhe ves lies whennen - dreys ha reden hir kens oll. Pur goth ew an ke obma (whei ell gweles meur a gewny) – fatel ellen nei y witha rag damach? A wedhen vian, na ellesta tevy e’n ke. Ma gwedhen dherow en ogas, ha’n wedhen vünys ma a wrüg tevy dhort mesen (martesen codhys dhort gelvin edhen). War nebes delkyow ma jewon, lies whethen vian (whethfians bian). Termyn me veu yonk gelwys o hedna “trew (trefyas) cùckou”. Lebmyn nag eus cùckous veth. Gwres ew gen wheskeren.
It’s a perfect day today for working in my garden. The weather is not cold and neither is it too hot. There is no rain but there is mist from the sea. I can’t see the distant fields beyond the trees. There is a corner of the garden that is overgrown and I must cut away lots of weeds – especially brambles and bracken (tall ferns). The hedge here is very old (you can see much moss) – how can we protect it from damage? O little tree, you can’t grow in the hedge. There is an oak tree close by, and this tiny tree has grown from an acorn (perhaps fallen from a bird’s beak). On some leaves there is foam, many little bubbles. When I was young that was called “cuckoo spit”. Now there are no cuckoos at all. It is made by an insect.
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