“And always at my back I hear . . . “

That quote is, of course, from the poem by Andrew Marvell, the Puritan poet of Cromwellian times.   But, in this "As Time goes by" Category, I’m just going to mention events which happen round this area – "my part of the World" – and which don’t necessarily have repercussions.   Repercussions, that is, on neither the World, Wales, Ceredigion, Pontrhydfendigaid or our house.

On Sunday, our neighbour Non who lives at No. 5 up the Terrace, said to me "Did you see them go, then?"   He was talking about a massive migration of swallows which had happened on Saturday.   I did not see them go, but Rosie and I had noticed them grouping on the telephone wires for a few days before.

Then, on Monday, I saw Non walking from the Tregaron side of the Village and down the slope towards the Terrace.   He was carrying what looked like, at a distance, the carcass of some creature or other.   It turned out to be that of a stray cat which he and Diane had adopted some weeks ago.   Obviously, it had been hit by a passing car.

I commiserated with him, of course.  You will know from my piece called "Requiem" how I felt and still feel about my little dog Gypsy.   We, too, had a lovely small cat killed on the same bit of road where Non found his cat.   The love of an animal, like the love of a fellow human-being, does not stop at the grave.

There are still swallows – and swifts, too – still congregating on the wires ready to follow their fellows on the trip South.   Life continues to move along in its own way as best it can.   We are all fellow-travellers.

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