2025 Day 220

 2025 Dedh Dew Cans hag Ügens

De Gwener, ethves mis Est

Friday, 8th August

War an leur, war an dor, en hav da ew gen ow hei coth sedha dadn wedhen po dadn nebes plansow skeujek. Ma lies aval codhys war an leur. Mons ow codha moy üskis avel ow gallos dh'aga ûsya. Ma delkyow ow codha ewedh, del marow. Ma diwedh an hav ow tos solabres. Scon e vedh kidnyadh. My a wel delkyow owryek dadn an besow gwydn. Nag üjy an idhyow ow treylya liw; bythwer ew. Cüdhys ew an edhyn bian en mis ma. Mons ow treylya aga plüv, theram ow pedery. My ell gweles plüv codhys dhort an edhyn cüdhys war an gwels. Nag üjy an vran owth omgüdha. Üjy hei ow whilas mòryon?

On the floor, on the ground, in summer my old dog likes to sit under a tree or under some shady plants. There are lots of apples fallen on the floor. They are falling faster than my ability to use them. Leaves are falling too, dead leaves. The end of the summer is coming already. Soon it will be autumn. I see golden leaves under the silver birch. The ivy is not changing colour; it's evergreen. The little birds are hidden this month. They are changing their feathers, I think. I can see fallen feathers from the hidden birds on the grass. The crow is not hiding herself. Is she looking for ants?