Posted on Saturday, 7th July 2018…
Two long shadows looking towards Sheep’s Tor – wondering why they had an area of outstanding natural beauty all to themselves on Tuesday 3rd July 2018. On such a God-given evening where were all the usual sightseers, the joggers, the cyclists, the car drivers, the dog-walkers – other walkers? Answer: England were playing Columbia in the FIFA World Cup!
Neither my son or I had any idea about Tuesday’s match because we’re not footie fans – and with no Internet signal thereabouts, we enjoyed our ramble in blissful ignorance as well as solitude; you could hear a pin drop it was that quiet…
or the tiniest stone go ‘plip’ rather than ‘plop’ in the reservoir!
No sooner had we stepped-out over parched Moorland to our favourite Dartmoor wood – we were caught in a deluge of cool, refreshing rain. Whilst we waited for the grey skies overhead to turn blue again, we sheltered under our old friend ‘The Great Holly’ in ‘Ravens’ Haven’ – near Burrator Reservoir…
A favourite shot from the ‘Something about Dartmoor’ archive.
I fancied I could hear the old tree sighing with relief as the rain fell in large droplets through prickly, dehydrated leaves onto tinder-dry ground below; it was like music for trees——and us! The Moor afterwards felt like heaven on earth – everything had that feeling like you could drink it all in – in one huge breathless gulp!
On such a day as this was – I love finding a special treasure – a symbolic memento of my Dartmoor experience to take home with me. It is true to say – my home is comparable to a Corvid’s nest these days, although my hoard of treasures only sparkle if it HAS rained…
…sticks, stones, bones and a whole feathered nestful of these ‘black beauties’.
En route to the reservoir – I stumbled across some sun-bleached remains of a sheep…
I left the skull, the teeth and the vertebra to Nature…
but this curly horn came home; seen through my eyes, it’s a ‘Cornucopia’.
Forget ‘The World Cup’ – give me a cup like this any day. Cheers Dartmoor!
Our walk around the reservoir was as quiet as I can ever remember – and the same could be said of the water level too – it was low——ever so low! 
The deeper, darker middle bit illumined by the sinking sun.
At its outer edge, the circular road around the reservoir offered some magical oases too…
Another special Holly tree of ‘mine’. Its centrepiece always reminds me of a medieval waterspout – a dog-like gargoyle perhaps?
England are playing again this afternoon – at three…