Sweet song amidst the clamour

We joined the congregation at St Mary's Parish Church in Tenby town centre this morning. The main street outside was cordoned off for the day's running events and crowded with people, spectators and runners for different events. The PA music and continuous commentary stream was obtrusively loud, even in the depths of the beautiful 12 century church filled with morning sunlight. It has many large windows, and thus is susceptible to intrusive street noise. Hardly an issue most Sundays, but today, a ruination of the sacred peace of the Lord's day.

Fr Andrew the Vicar was understandably tensed up by the competitive noise from beyond, doing a sound check before starting wondering if he was going to be heard. The marathon was timed to start as the Eucharist began. His appeals to the Council events management had been ignored over several years. The might of numbers who make sport their religion and are indifferent to ancient tradition, is all that matters these days.

The service began against this backdrop with the gentle sound of the 30 strong robed church choir singing an introit anthem in a choir vestry which opens out into a long chancel. This must be a regular occurrence as it brought a slightly distracted talkative congregation to stillness and quiet attention. And then, the first hymn was sung in procession. A nice touch.

  

I think there were about a hundred of us present. Almost nobody under fifty. The Vicar blessed those running at the end of the service. I thought this was generous. I don't suppose anyone would relay this gesture back to the overamplified commentariat outside on the street, but it was a good example of blessing rather than cursing those who take no thought for the Lord's service on the Lord's Day.

After a snack lunch I walked out along North Beach and on along  the Coast Path to find the secluded Waterwynch Cove, on a spur that descends from the main path to the sea in a narrow valley containing several substantial private properties. The Coast path itself is well marked and surfaced, but has some stiff long gradients. I was pretty tired by the time I got back even though I'd only walked just over five miles. I'm used to walking in the coastal plain of Cardiff these days and not quite as fit as I think I am.

Coast path walk

This morning we walked a circular route, first up to the village of Moylegrove, then following the track down the wooded valley alongside the stream that flows out into Ceibwr Bay. From there we climbed up to the coast path and followed it for a mile to Devil's Cauldron, a spectacular feature in the coastal landscape. A gigantic sea cave has collapsed at some time in the distant past leaving a crater in the steep hillside. The rock above the former cave entrance remains however, providing a bridge across which coast path walkers must tread. The sea flows underneath it and into the crater, which contains its own pebble beach. A mountain stream descends steeply in a narrow valley adjacent to the crater, cutting a narrow ravine in its final approach to the sea, undercutting the path and making a small wooden bridge necessary. The path rises steeply back up to the cliff top, and a few hundred yards further on, it branches, with a path inland returning to the back road linking Moyelgrove with Newport.

Altogether it's an energetic walk of two hours, delightful for the variety of its terrain, the wildflowers and remarkable numbers of butterflies and months. I was pleased with the photographs I took using my Sony Alpha DSLR for the first time this holiday - pretty effective snapping insects in closeup. We were both suprised by how tired we were, took a siesta after lunch. Late afternoon I became aware of a helicopter in the vicinity. There'd been one howevering over Ceibwr beach in the morning, one of the kind that's based in Anglesey. Was it on a training or coast observation mission I wondered? The second helicopter had a different, heavier engine noise, so I walked down the lane to look, and soon spotted a big yellow RAF Sea King from Yeovilton circling over the sea and cliffs south of Ceibwr Bay this time.

I watched it for about half an hour, and towards the end, it disappeared from sight below cliff top level, and stayed there for about five minutes before rising into the sky and flying off.

A cliff or shore rescue? Or another training mission I wondered. Maybe tomorrow's news will give the answer.

We cooked supper together - Spanish omlette, plus kidney beans cooked with bacon and green kidney beans and roasted vegetables - a right feast, and finished the day listening to choirs performing at the National Eisteddfod up in Denbigh.