As mentioned in my previous post, I grew up on the edge of the glorious wilderness that is Dartmoor.
We always make as many visits there as our time in Devon allows. This year, the weather was appalling, but we were graced by a couple of nice days.
Luckily, Dartmoor tends to drain it's rainwater off quite quickly, so the ground wasn't too boggy.
We had a great trip to Hound Tor, a very picturesque tor surrounded in legends and history.
Our hound liked Hound Tor...
Tim and Rhiannon went climbing. My days of clambering over rocks are sadly over following a nasty fall a year ago.
So I stayed below with Kita who had discovered her own interest: lovely, fresh sheep poo...
On another Dartmoor trip, this time in the Okehampton area at the base of Yes Tor, she found even more poo to roll in. This time it was a fresh cow pat which resulted in an emergency bath in the river.
And finally, a rather bad photo of the famous Dartmoor ponies. When I was a kid, my best friend and I used to tame these and take little rides on them. Obviously this is not recommended!
This year's visit to the UK brought back some wonderful memories for me. I'm not entirely sure why this particular trip was so poignant. I think it's because Rhiannon is at roughly the same age I was when I was constantly outside independently exploring this beautiful countryside. She doesn't have that option: we don't live there, obviously! And she doesn't have the fabulous older best friend I had, and still have.
I think I'm feeling old!