On the grand hills

 In England there is a mysterious white horse on the great green landscape. 💚 

I visited Wales today, it was on my YouTube feed. I hauled my little rebounder inside and watched about history and tradition for 20 minutes of gentle bouncing. 

There were reasons I was interested in Wales already. One, the saint who I celebrate each year was ready to settle there, but God gave the land to another.  Instead, he showed him that he would give him this land 👇, Ireland, and then in so much time there would be another where Patrick, my mystery saint, was ready to retire.

This other great Saint has legends of his own. I have now taken a great interest in the saints of the United Kingdom. It began with St. Bede, or with Patrick? Anyway, now there are Edward, Gregory, Fursey ... and they all have a stake on this place. 

So back to the ponies. There was David, the saint of Wales, who I learned of and whose story taught me Jack of the beanstalk and Ex Caliber were also from Wales. The red dragon of their flag was Merlins uncovering, a battle underground between the Angles and Welsh, almost as divine as Patrick and David's stories, and at the end a sword is taken by hand outreached from under the dark water over the hills. They say they cannot find the sword, have they found the hand?

Ponies live on those hills. Ponies who have lived there from before we tell tales. Perhaps they arrived as mysteriously as the sword left. I am fascinated by hills.