MINWINGS IN WALES?

 

 

An old stone mill stands on the banks of the emerald River Teifi near the village of Cenarth, South Wales, Britain. Salmon attempt to leap over the spectacular waterfall as it foams over the daunting grey rocks. The birds sing out cheerfully as I stroll along the meandering pathway that follows the river. Buttercups, wild primroses soft moss and delicate ferns decorate the landscape with bright yellows and greens. This is an ancient land. A land where many have trod before. A land of high hedges, sandy beaches, rolling fields and imposing cliffs.

 

 

 

It isn't long before I notice the unmistakeable signs of Minwing life. Pathways leading to small openings at the bottoms of old trees, well camouflaged by vines and greenery.  Tiny piles of petals gathered for soft, fragrant beds to curl up in out of the sun. 

 

 

 

 

                  Miniature footprints on brightly coloured toadstools. What a magical place! Surely, if I sit quietly, I will catch a glimpse of a Welsh Minwing!

 

 

Where does inspiration come from?

While I was writing the Tale of the Island Minwings I took a walk through the fields of my home place on a beautiful autumn day. This wonderful old tree stump peeked out at me from the edge of the woods just begging to be noticed. It not only inspired me to write the chapter about Nimbra visiting the brewery of his friend Raspin, but also encouraged me to do this painting of the same stump at night time. The birch trees in the background, the little door at the front and the golden light shining from inside gave the magical quality I was looking for. 

Nestled in among a growth of fresh white birch trees, stands a worn and gnarly old tree stump, with its roots spread out in wild abandon. The top of the stump is jagged and pointed. The bark is peeling. When approached from a certain angle, the ancient trunk appears to have a face. Between two of the largest roots a small door is almost hidden from view by a tangle of vine.

The cozy warmth of the great-room envelopes Nimbra and his friends as they enter. A rich aroma of apples fills the air. Dominating the north wall is a beautiful clay fireplace, in front of which is a low oval table. On an arc-shaped bench around the table a number of male Minwings are gathered, talking, and drinking cider from snail shells. On the south wall shelves hold wooden casks where the cider is stored.

Nimbra, of course, has molded the furniture out of brick clay. Into the clay of the fireplace he has carved the shapes of all the birds and animals of the woods. It is a work of art! Every Minwing who enters is amazed at the workmanship, and when Nimbra stops by, there is always someone wanting to know his trade secrets.

Nimbra’s oldest friend, Raspin, brews the cider for which the West Woods is so well known. Raspin, a short Minwing with a large belly and rosy cheeks, always wears his long red beard in eleven small braids, one for each generation of his family who has worked as a brewer. He takes great pride in his work and is always ready to tell a story or sing a song to entertain his guests. Minwings come from near and far to taste his cider, which has the distinct flavour of wild apples.

The apples are picked at the perfect moment of maturity, cut up, prepared and lovingly brewed. Crushed wild mustard seed is added to give the rich amber cider that extra bite.