In St Davids Town Square

In the sun-blanketed town square the young family pause and rest: young father, young mother, young child. They are just starting out. And a good start, it would appear- happy father, happy mother, happy child. Happy little world: the elements of their contentedness seem gathered comfortably about them like an unpacked picnic lunch. The two sit on an old stone wall, with the baby stroller drawn up close. The father takes time to give the child a proper fright: leaning in close he makes a fearful monster face, and holds his hands behind his head to make furry monster ears and curls his lips to show gnashing monster teeth and howls his great monster howl. The child is at that age where it seems his parts have only just found some sort of working order. Now, he can scarcely control them: shrieking in a delicious cocktail of delight, fear, and sunshine. He shakes like the airframe of a fat cargo plane passing through a turbulent storm in the skies above, as if an unseen force is shaking him apart. And I think: this is how death will come for us with its great grinning teeth until we shake, laughing and crying into something we are not.