Tymhorau newidiol

Tymhorau newidiol ~ Changing Seasons

"Changing seasons all around me
Each one with a tale of his own to tell"
—— 'Scarecrow', Magna Carta

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Pan roeddwn i'n ifanc, roeddwn i'n arfer meddwl am ddiwedd yr haf fel rhiw fath o drychineb yn yr ardd.  Roedd y blodau llachar a dail gwyrdd eu disodli gan goesau gwag a llanast brown sy'n pydru ar y lawnt. Nawr mae'n edrych yn wahanol i mi.  Mae bob tymor yn cael ei brydferth a'i bwrpas - hyd yn oed pan mae'r blodau'n pylu ac mae'r dail yn pydru ar y lawnt.

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When I was young, I used to think of late summer as a sort of disaster in the garden. The bright flowers and green leaves were replaced by hollow stems and a rotting brown mess on the lawn. Now it looks different to me. Each season has its beauty and purpose - even when the flowers are fading and the leaves are rotting on the lawn.