This morning when I made my traditional offering of a sprig of thyme to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, at dawn before He goes to fight His battle against Gwythyr ap Grendel for Creiddylad (a battle He, as Winter King, is doomed to lose to the Summer King) He appeared to me as a magnificent bull of battle and spoke the words:

“I go to fight for all those who fight a battle they cannot win.”

Go well,
my beloved Lord of Annwn,
I will be waiting for You at summer’s end.