Even when no boat floats upon it and no fish can be seen, and even if the water is as smooth as a millpond, it still has the power to draw one to it.

     The original name for the Pacific Ocean was ‘Peaceful Sea’ and although at times this isn’t the case, there is a certain aura of both peacefulness and power about it. It has the power to give and the power to take away.

      Below this surface that we often stare at with little thought, lay thousands of islands, volcanoes, valleys and the longest mountain range on Earth, known as The Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Indeed, another world full of mystery, a world full of life we have yet to discover.

      But we do know that the largest animal ever to have lived on this planet, lives beneath this water we love to stare at. The Blue whale, (Balaenoptera musculus) is around 30 metres in length and weighs 170 tonnes or more.  Her voice is louder than a jet and her heart is about the size of a Volkswagen beetle, how amazing is that?  

      So it is no wonder we stare at this vast amount of water that covers 70% of our planet. The sheer size of it is enough to make anyone feel in awe of it. From its gentle ripples to its tsunamis, this part of our planet will always be something to watch, to listen to, to be mindful of.  

      For me, standing at the water’s edge, drinking in the fresh salty air, allows me to think or to meditate and not think at all. If I’m sad, its endless murmur soothes me, but always, it revitalises my soul.

‘We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch-we are going back from whence we came.’

John F Kennedy

I wonder how many of us remember the Magpie Song! I certainly do because my father sang it to me so many times when I was a child. He was also very superstitious and if ever he saw just one magpie, he would climb through hedges and over gates in search of another. Thankfully, I’m not that obsessed but I am grateful that it’s two magpies that are building a nest at the bottom of our garden.

     It is true, that every summer for the past few summers, the young couple have come to stay at our home for waifs and strays. I am fascinated by the way they build their nest or at least, they built it some time ago and now they have arrived in time to carry out a few repairs before the breeding season begins, as you can see from the photo.

     The nest (or summer home) appears to have a roof and two entrances. It must be very hardy to have survived the severe weather conditions that hit Wales during the winter months.

    Once magpies have paired up, they usually remain within their territory and it’s rare for them to travel further than 10km from where they were hatched.

     ‘Welcome back my dear friends....You’re doing a grand job!’

One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.

Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten for a bird that you won’t want to miss.

Throughout the summer months, you will often find me helping in our family, pop up cafe. Although it is hard work, I always look forward to these special days. My kind and unassuming husband stays at our home for waifs and strays, where there is always an endless amount of work to be done.

      We normally use a village hall close to the sea and advertise well in advance. Our ‘old fashioned tea room’ has an atmosphere of times gone by, with food to match. There is much laughter and chit chat as we prepare the tables with white cotton cloths and a candle in the centre of each one. The buntings, also homemade, hang cheerfully around the room and outside,  colourful banner announces our arrival.

     It has taken a long time to collect all the right items for the cafe. Hours were spent scouring charity shops and jumble sales. I have to admit, that I often came out with more than just vintage teapots, cake stands and odd cups and saucers.

     The family work so well together, another blessing I always count. We know in advance what job is allocated to us and no-one ever seems to complain. Well, maybe just a little! Someone will make the sandwiches (fresh to order) and someone will make endless tea and coffee. Then there is the important task of re-stocking the endless supply of delicious cakes. And last but certainly not least, a waitress is chosen. This was once my job, but because I talked too much, I was ‘sacked’ and now I usually work in the kitchen, where, I’m sure, most of the talking is done anyway!

      It gives us all great pleasure to see people enjoying the food we have so carefully prepared and served in a warm and relaxing atmosphere. And although we make very little money from it, the reward is in the time we have spent together, talking and laughing. I would say that communication is the key to our survival as a close family and the desire to make the most of our lives

Leaving our home for waifs and strays, my dear and unassuming husband and I decided to go for a walk on the cliffs nearby.

     Within no time at all, we were on the path where I had spent much of my childhood and it brought back a memory, I ought not tell you, but I will!

     Mitching school was not something I was proud of but I confess to doing it just the once. Well, the once I can remember clearly! The trouble it caused, made me never want to take a day off school ever again. At least, at the time, that's what I thought.

     I had talked my dear friend into purposefully missing the school bus with me and told her about the wonderful adventure we would have instead.  But when she saw what I had in mind, she instantly refused to do it. But the bus had gone and there was no turning back.

      Inhabited during the Upper Palaeolithic period, Minchin Hole is situated below a small limestone knoll and is one of Gower’s most impressive caves and  one the most difficult to get too.  But being a wilful child, I was up for the challenge and the weather was just perfect without a cloud in the sky. What I should never have done though, was to involve my friend who couldn’t climb a tree, let alone climb down the edge of a steep cliff especially as we were wearing our school skirts and knee length white socks, not exactly the right attire for cliff climbing.

     ‘I’ll go first,’ I said to my friend who looked very pale and begged me not to go.

     ‘Don’t worry about me,’ I said confidently, ‘just keep a lookout for people of any kind.’ You see, it was a small village and everyone knew us and no-one ever skipped school.

     As I said, I had never mitched before!  Let me add that mitching is an Indian word for truancy and I thought, at the time, I was doing something truly amazing. For at least one day, I was not a school girl but an explorer. I was going in search of remains of elephant, bison, bear and wolves, which had been discovered in the cave sometime before. I have a sharp eye and was convinced that I would find something they had missed, something left behind by smugglers or the Romans.

      Anyway, I went first and straightaway I realised it wasn’t going to be easy. The weather was sunny and seagulls screeched and screamed above me and when I looked closer, I could see they had nests everywhere in the cliffs. But it was too late; I was already planted safely on a ledge half way down.

     ‘Come on! Follow me!’ I shouted to my friend. But she refused and I could hear her sobbing from where I was sitting, contemplating my next move.

     ‘OK!’ I shouted up. ‘I will go on my own and if anything happens to me, run and get my father.’ I knew my father was at home, probably inventing some other gadget or another. He would be cross, no doubt,  if he discovered I had skipped school, but I thought it would never come to that. How wrong was I?

      I was exhausted by the time I reached the cave and my knees were scratched and bleeding and then I heard the most piercing cry. It was my friend. No, she hadn’t fallen over the cliff, but she was trying to tell me something. Something very important! If she had stopped crying I would probably have understood her sooner. Anyway, I soon saw what she was pointing at. Again, something I should have considered...the tide was almost in.

     Now why I hadn’t considered the tide, has never ceased to amaze me. I had no choice but to abandon my excavation plans and start the harrowing climb back up. But that was easier said than done. I almost died a thousand times, I’m quite sure of that! Slipping and sliding down the cliff, clinging to rocks that jutted out precariously, I could have slipped to my death quite easlily. I could no longer hear my friend screaming and even the seagulls were silenced by my new found fear. The only sound to be heard was the tide below, as the waves crashed against the rocks menacingly.

     It took some time, but I eventually made it to the top and flung myself on the grass completely exhausted. My friend was nowhere to be seen. I needn’t have worried however, as I soon saw her running towards me with my father in tow. I knew I was in deep trouble!

     ‘I thought you would die,’ my friend cried. ‘I just had to go for help.’

     As you can imagine, I was ‘grounded’ for quite some time. The experience taught me many things, but I guess the most important of all was to plan things more carefully.Much more carefully. But never give up!

Every week I pay a visit to Carmarthen, the oldest town in Wales (so it claims) and every week I travel the same road home. Today, however, was different! Today, I went cross country, thinking it would be a short cut...How wrong was I?

     Instead of going straight over the crossroads, I turned left onto a quiet lane, thinking it would cut off a huge part of my journey. There was no sign to say it would, it just looked like it should. The sun shone through the windscreen and I felt a surge of excitement. I love adventures!

     Driving down lanes laced with daffodils and snowdrops took my breath away. Every so often I would pass an isolated farm but no other car, just the odd tractor as I drove up and down small hills and over the oldest of quaint bridges.  This didn’t seem to bother me at first, I was heading the right way, so I thought! My excitement grew, as if I had discovered a new part of Wales, a part no one else had ever seen. I just couldn’t wait to tell my kind and unassuming husband on my eventual return.

     I braked suddenly, just in front of the oldest oak tree I had ever seen. But it wasn’t just the tree that caught my eye, but the buzzard that sat on its naked branches. Oh why didn’t I have my camera? I turned off the engine and watched, mesmerised by its large broad body and a pale necklace of feathers.  

     Further along the lanes I saw very newly born lambs, wobbling besides their mothers. It reminded me Sandwich and all the other wee lambs that had passed through our home for waifs and strays and I smiled. I had to get home, but I was lost!

     Deciding to turn the car around and go back the way I came seemed the best option. The lanes were getting narrower and grass grew down the centre making driving difficult. And just at that moment, I saw the most amazing site. A Red Kite! It was unmistakable with its reddish brown body and forked tail. Saved from extinction by one of the world’s longest running protection programmes, these magnificent birds of prey can now be seen across many parts of Wales.

     Back at our home for waifs and strays, I told my kind and unassuming husband all about my journey home and how the road less travelled, took twice as long but a hundred times more interesting. And yet another tale to tell my readers!