Dartmoor remains one of my favourite wild places. Its changing moods bring dark clouds and rain, sunshine and bright freshness. The
tors - the great granite outcrops - seem like symbols of permanence,
withstanding all weathers and the scrambling feet and pitons of climbers
of all levels of skill. They remain tolerant and uncomplaining.
At
this time of year the wild heather and the bright yellow gorse are in
profusion on some slopes, lifting the spirits with their brave show. In
the late afternoon the shadows added texture to the views across the
moor and we could see down into the area to the south and as far as the
ocean.
We saw larks in the blue sky and a big
buzzard circled, hovering on its broad, outstretched wings. Dartmoor is a
place to breathe, a place to be thankful.