This story is suitable for children of all ages, especially the over-50s.
Now simply scroll down to read Chapter One – and off you go on a truly (and, perhaps totally true) WELSH ADVENTURE !
Happy-Face The Dragon.
A story for children of all ages
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Once upon a time not very long ago, in a land which is so close that you can go there at any time, there was, on the banks of a river, something that looked like a pile of rocks.
In fact, it really was a pile of rocks. Well, almost. You see, in that so-close land, the bigger river-rocks looked just like dragons’ eggs. And, of course, vice versa.
And, naturally in those days, dragons always laid their eggs among the grey, round river-rocks to hide them until they hatched. In fact, they still do. That’s because the land we’re talking about is Wales, where real magic quietly survives and people just accept it.
This, then, is the story of one round, grey dragon-egg and the pile of rocks among which it was hidden. Well, not so much about the rocks. But certainly about that dragon-egg.
The river beside which the egg was laid was – and still is – the River Teifi.
And the River Teifi, as anyone who knows anything knows, flows through some of the most delightful scenery in Wales – and that’s really saying something!
So – back to our egg. Or, rather, not our egg. It belonged to Gladys and Rhodri. They were a pair of smiling dragons who lived in the hills from whence the River Teifi flowed. In fact, it still does.
Those soft and lovely hills were called The Cambrian Mountains. In fact, they still are. And, though many of them qualify as mountains, they’re easy to walk across as long as you have a pair of good boots. And a reasonable pair of legs.
Gladys and Rhodri spent much of their time keeping a watch over the sheep (and people) who lived up there, and scaring away monsters such as the Treacle-Wally. Looking after things is what dragons are born to do. Leave them to it, and they’ll look after anything which is gentle and kind. They’ll look after that sort of thing for a very long time. Years, in fact. Well, to be accurate, centuries if not millennia.
And they had an egg. Grey, round, and just like a river-stone. Gladys had laid it beside the River Teifi. And, quite unlike the stones in which it was laid, the egg had begun to quiver a bit.
So, had anyone been around to notice it, they would have realised that it wasn’t a stone. But no-one was, so no-one did.
It had lain among the river-rocks for a very long time: longer than you or I can be bothered to calculate. That is the way of dragon eggs, believe me. And now, the little dragon who was inside the shell had decided it was high time to leave.
Of course, when one says “the little dragon”, one means an unhatched member of that species. Dragons, though small in stature when first they leave their eggs, can never be classed as small – they are always HUGE in spirit. So there.
Anyway, leave the egg it did. At first, the egg began to wobble, shaking the pebbles quite noticeably had anyone been there to notice. But no-one was, so no-one did.
Then the shell – hard and rough – began cracking in all directions across its surface.
Then – BANG! Like when all dragons enter the world, the whole scene exploded like Bonfire Night and pebbles, rocks, grit and a dragon were thrown into the air.
And still no-one was there to see it.
The pebbles, rocks and grit soon came back to earth.
But the dragon didn’t. It stayed a few feet above the ground, knowing instinctively that all dragons can fly. Of course, the fledgling did blink a bit.
Then, from the Cambrian Mountains above that stretch of the River Teifi, flew a pair of fully grown dragons . . .
You will be able to read more soon (I hope) as this tale will be published on Kindle. Stand by for more info!