I have always spoken Welsh. I grew up bilingual. My mother didn’t speak it much, just to dogs and small children, but it was my father’s beloved first language. It is a musical and lyric language and a pleasure to speak.
The ancient tongue’s names for the autumn months are an echo that tumbles down the years for me. I would have first learned to write them at the top of the page on the blue-lined paper of my exercise book at junior school.
