Sun, wood anemones, celandines: we are walking along an escarpment above the river Nevern, looking down on clear, peat-coloured water in sun and shadow. Wood anemones are in flower, drinking in the light before the tree buds open out and they vanish for another year. When the path drops down to the river, wood rushes take over.
In one quiet backwater we see a group of pond skaters larking in the sunshine. The shadows cast by the weight - bearing pads of hair at the ends of their legs give their skating an appearance of nimble circus clowning. Then there are wild daffodils, small and singing. Hazel trees delight with the female flowers: small grey buds with a few maroon styles sticking up, another circus touch. They could be little clown bonnets.
After crossing the Nevern on Pont Newydd, we leave the Pilgrim's Way to St David's and come to Llwyngwair, once the Bowen family's grand estate, now a hotel and caravan park. It stands protected by high ground on the west and east, looking south to Carn Ingli. The family's dogs are still honoured. Their graves remain in a grove of trees, each with its own headstone.
We carry on down Sandy Lane, the old road that the family used to follow en route for Nevern church. Initially, the lane has been cut out of rock; then it falls into sand.
The smells are spring, its lightness and joy. Badgers have been out rooting for bulbs. It will soon be bluebell time. A spring in the last field has a brilliant marsh marigold in flower. Then it is back to Nevern church, where butterflies drink up the sunshine. An avenue of ancient yew trees leads us up to the church with its old inscribed stones and great Celtic crosses.
Tomorrow, on the feast of St Brynach, the first cuckoo should be seen calling on St Brynach's cross. Anyone visiting will certainly see the Bowen family graves and a memorial to Rev John James, Bard Tegid, who helped Lady Charlotte Guest translate the Mabinogion into English. There is also a different view of Carn Ingli, the 1,138ft hill dominating this area that so deserves its affectionate title of "the Mountain."
