The gold and the grey

I had to stop on my way to catch the bus to catch the light as a blaze of sun illuminated the quiescent turbine   against a steely sky and the gorse-gilded hedgerows below the graveyard.

In town I met with a hubbub at the farmers' market. A deputation from our twin town of Loctudy in Brittany  had arrived to make crepes and sell goods. I bought a bottle of cidre, a saucisson sec, and a jar of caramel. But there were no onions. The Breton onion sellers who used to hawk their wares in South Wales were said to be able roughly to comprehend their customers' spoken Welsh. In the extra you can see the Welsh and the Breton flags hanging side by side.