It was well outside my jurisdiction, admittedly, but it was near and I was intrigued. What was I supposed to do? Maen Melyn was a must see. I was close enough to feel the draw. I've learned not to fight the pull. I made my way from Aberdaron, where I'd left assorted family members with a promise I'd return in time for chips and beach stuff, and headed up to Uwchmynydd where I hoped I'd be able to park the car somewhere and walk down to the stone. Astonishingly, it all went remarkably well, and I found the National Trust car park with an ease my lack of preparation scarcely deserved. Knowing full well the stone was overlooking the sea, looking out to Ynys Enlli (Bardsey Island), I kept the Island in my sights and ambled down through the ghostly remains of hut circles, I'm sure.
Do you remember Close Encounters of the Third Kind? One of those awesome Spielberg films of the 1970s? Course you do. Well, there was a scene in the film in which Richard Dreyfuss, Roy I think his name was in the film, was muleing around the mid west following the lights in the sky, and he comes across a collection of people waiting by a road, seemingly knowing the alien craft were going to appear. I remember the old fella, who was whistling quietly, and the calm, serene look on his face...like he was home, like he'd found a kind of spiritual home. I met a few people at the cliff face who had that look about them. They saw me coming, smiled, nodded and turned back to the cliff - almost entirely dream like. Some were coming, some were leaving - all were silent. I ventured on. And of course it was there.
I couldn't have missed it, in truth. It was like it was waiting for me. It's called Maen Melyn, the Yellow Stone, and the lichen on it has given it that colour though its often described as pinkish. No one really knows what it is. It's described as a standing stone, but many think it's a natural - perhaps it was and someone lifted it to a standing position overlooking the often treacherous Bardsey Sound - a water some 20000 Welsh saints are said to have sailed across. The Royal Commission are silent on the stone, while a work of 1636 describes it as a hundred stone and central to myth and legend - now lost, it seems. It was terrific.
I'll have to go back again, when I can wander about a bit...I missed so much. I drove back to Aberdaron (which is tops, as well), and had my chips and did the beach stuff. It was a good day.