I'v always been very sceptical of these future-predicting fairs which seem popular in Wales, where the various practitioners stare into their Mystic Meg globe, examine your palm, or shake the bones. The sangomas of Africa with their painted faces and the fear they spread of the tikoloshe with its malevolent power is much in evidence amongst the African black community but no less so in the tents and on the village green in Llandysul where a 'future seeking' congregation hand over their modest £5 - £10 a throw to see what the tea leaves have in store for them.
To the Chapel down the road this is Devils work and they will pray for all those who need word from the other side, (other than the word of god) but at least this is a quick fix and provides a startled buzz when Auntie Maude is mentioned.
This aside, my own trip into the paranormal started on a day on the beach near Penclawdd, or rather the boggy turf which marks one of those little estuaries which divide the land around that area. It was a bright day, a peaceful scene, sheep grazing, birds swooping down, Marie making her way along the path, me a little more adventurous hopping from turf to turf trying to stay out of the mud and hoping to get a better shot with my camera. This was in the days before we discarded proper cameras for the convenience of a smart phone camera and whilst my camera stored the pictures electronically, to be downloaded onto a computer later, it was state of the art for its time. Suddenly, whilst I was trying to compose a shot of the headland with the grazing sheep in the foreground there was the sound of pounding hooves behind me. As I swung around a black horse was galloping full speed towards where I was standing. The horse in full flight, nostrils flailed was an exciting sight, the sheep scattered out of its path as I swung my camera up to shoot the scene. Click click went the shutter as I filled by view finder with the horse and then it was gone heading off around the bend in the estuary. Wow that was a sight I said to Marie when I joined her, she had got a shock and took flight herself along the path to get out of the way.
We spent more time exploring and eventually regaining the car we drove back to the camp-sight not far away to have a look to see what they offered. In conversation with the camp sight owner I mentioned the horse and what had happened. He looked at me quizzically and told me the story of the legend of the phantom horse that was seen occasionally galloping along that part of the estuary. Look I said I have a picture of the horse and pulled out my camera. All the scenes were there before and after but of the shot of the horse there was nothing, just a blank screen like the one you used to get if you over exposed an emulsion film. No image at all other than a grey screen which showed the lens had opened and the light had activated the sensor in the camera but the pixels hadn't formed an image.
And so yes I'm convinced a ghost horse had indeed raced not 20yds away from me. It was not of this world, it was not real but belonged to the paranormal, that repository for things we can't explain, including how the tarot card reader was right in describing something which had happened to me years before. I left the fair that day to preserve my scepticism and keep my integrity in tact but along with the horse, it all remains a mystery.
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