De Gwener, tryja warn ügens mis Hedra
Friday, 23rd October
My a viras der an daras. Ma neppeth deffrans! Pandr'ew kellys? My ell gweles ebòrn moy. Na wrüg agan besowen wydn kelly hy delkyow marow, etho poos o an branchys. Enawel Austen a dheuth a-dhia an noor dres an nos. E'n mettin, otta an wedhen, codhys dhe'n dor, ow tisqwedhes an sooth. An corf-gwedhen ew diberhys ha'n gwredhow ew sqwardys dhort an dor. Duw genes, a grow coth!
I looked through the door. There's something different! What is missing? I can see more sky. Our silver birch did not lose her dead leaves, so the branches were heavy. Storm Austen came from the north in the night. In the morning, here's the tree, fallen to the ground, pointing south. The tree trunk is broken off and the roots are ripped from the ground. Goodbye, old shed!



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