CALCITE OF TAFFS WELL

She took me by surprise before I entered the main minerals gallery. Reclining in a Henry Moore sort- of -way in a glass case; her fecund flesh, flushed, ripe for reproduction, multi-nippled, like a Greek goddess, available for a thousand babies to suck chemistry and strength from her breasts.

           Taffs Well, the place of my home for 35 years and only now do I discover her.  Calcite gets its name from ‘chalix’ the Greek word for lime, one of the most common minerals on the face of the earth, comprising about 4% by weight of the Earth’s crust. In Taffs Well, there is a Calcite Wall, where the babies of Chalix, climbers and aspiring mountaineers, play and practice before they fly the nest to Yosemite, to climb El Capitan, to Nepal, to ascend Everest, or to Chile to scale the heights of Ojos del Salado.   

           Chalix’s wall stands over Junction 32 of the M4 where it meets the south-bound carriageway of the A470 between Tongwynlais and Taffs Well.  Behind her sits Castell Coch, the Red Castle, once Lord Bute’s summer home; fairy turrets house her babies’ books, their stories, tales of adventures on The Shield, Cowpoke, The Melty Man Cometh, Crow Man, Kings of New York, LA Confidential, Ghengis Khan, Bulbus Tara and Hirsuit Ulvula.

       ‘Retro- bolting is permissible with the first ascensionist’s permission.’ Have they performed proper rituals before their mother, appeased her before inflicting pain of bolts, screws, ropes?  Chalix withstands her pain, pulls it tightly within like a gastric band, proud of her babies’ crawling and climbing. Soon they will be walking.