Late night walk

After midnight after a beautiful summer day. It's clear and calm, not a breath of wind, when Ty and I go for our final stroll, me keeping as usual to the tarmac path and street lights along the top of the Coombe while he explores the scents of the night. A new sound - pattercrackle, pattercrackle - not the stream, which is quiet after a few dry days, not the crickets, which are murmuring in the background, not the traffic, which is almost absent and very distant now. I stand still, listening, feeling for the sound. It's raining leaves. All around me leaves are falling, dropping straight down to the dry earth below, pattercrackle, pattercrackle. A fox barks from further down the Coombe, eliciting a frantic response from Widget the Lurcher at number 21. Ty, mercifully, is silent, and we walk home.

Summer at Last!

I take back what I said about it always being winter on Dartmoor. Today it was definitely summer up there. About time, I suppose - I'd like to think that I triggered the recent spell of glorious sunshine being enjoyed over much of the UK by taking possession of the winter waterproofs a week or so ago, but I don't suppose anyone will give me that much credit. Anyway, walking on Dartmoor today it was t-shirt, sandals and sunhat time, and very pleasant it was too!
The meet was at Cadover Bridge, a new name to me. A quick Google revealed that it was right on the edge of the Dartmoor National Park, up at the top of the Plym valley. Getting directions was a bit vague - Google just had quite a lot of 'after 1.3 miles, turn right' without road names, RAC, Multimap and the Satnav couldn't find it at all. I reasoned that as it was only fifteen minutes from Plymouth city centre it would be well known enough to have signposts from the main road, which proved to be the case, so, having allowed half an hour for getting lost, I was there half an hour early. Ty didn't mind - there was a whole river to splash about in while we waited. I was a little surprised by the amount of car parking space available for such a remote spot; at 10am there was only one other car in what I took to be the main car park, and several other empty car parks within sight.
It turned out that we were only three and a dog for walkies. In glorious sunshine and a pleasant breeze we started from Cadover back up the road and along a lane to Brisworthy then up onto the moor proper, past a stone circle and ever upward to the top of Legis Tor. Not too high, not too difficult - even I got to the top for a magnificent view of the moor and the China Clay workings at Lee Moor. From there we descended gently to ford the river at Ditsworthy. This was fun - I had my proper trekking toe protecting instant drying sandals and rollup trousers, so I just walked on through - my two companions were both wearing boots, but our leader had thoughtfully rolled up a pair of wellies in his backpack for use at the ford - he crossed first then threw them back for Bob. It's as well I didn't need them, as I would have been able to put them on without taking my sandals off but probably not walk, let alone wade in them.
The original plan had been to climb to the top of Trowelsworthy Tor, where there are interesting stone works and such, but we had people to meet and lunch to eat, so we went half way up and then followed the leat along the side of the hill. This didn't exactly prove to be the easy option, as it was sploshy in places to say the least... Wet black stuff sucking the sandals off one's feet isn't the nicest feeling, but walking through nice clean green wet moss afterwards cleaned them off a treat and they dry quickly. Proper boots proved slightly inadequate and they don't dry the same.
About six miles we did, in the round. When we got back to Cadover at lunchtime I discovered the reason for the car parks - the river bank was full of picnickers, with kids in wetsuits (or just swimsuits) happily splashing about, windbreaks up, sunbathers, BBQs; it seemed like half the population of Plymouth indulging in general summer Sunday frivolity and every parking space taken. I might never have heard of Cadover Bridge, but everybody else obviously knows it well!
Lunch had been booked at the Moorland Hotel, Wotter, which enjoys a magnificent situation on the moor with actual sea views. We were joined by five non walkers and had a very fine lunch indeed. Good food, well presented in pleasant surroundings with friendly service and congenial conversation - and it wasn't even expensive.
Days like today easily make up for the occasional spell of bad weather and help remind me that I live in one of the loveliest corners of the world. Variety, as they say, is the spice of life, even as far as the climate is concerned.

These Boots Were Made For Walking

The nicest thing about shopping on the Internet is that Christmas feeling when the parcels arrive. Today I took delivery of new guaranteed waterproof walking boots and a new, bright blue, waterproof jacket. Never again will I walk all day with soaking wet feet as I did a couple of weeks ago round Lanlivery - or at least that's the plan.
The boots fit, the jacket's lovely, all I need now is an opportunity to wear them, but sadly the rain has gone and been replaced by bright sunshine and a strong, drying wind. Ah, yes, but... up on the moors it's always winter, so it's OK to wear all the new gear!
I took a quick hike with the dog up and down the coombe to test the boots for comfort (great) then took them for a proper test up at Minions, on Bodmin Moor with the usual walking gang. The wind was cold but the sky was bright, the tracks were pretty dry but the grass was swampy, the feet were snug, the new jacket kept the wind out, result!
We went to Goldie's first, mostly for Ty's benefit. I think it's his favourite swimming hole in the whole world, and he was off down the track at full gallop, pausing occasionally to look to see if I was calling him back but not quite giving me time to actually call him. When he had made sure the pool was there where he remembered it was he came racing back for the other two dogs. By the time us slow humans caught up all three of them were in the water.
There were campers there, including two young men in wet suits who were walking around, finally climbing up to the jumping cliff and looking down. Thirty years ago, for two whole summers Goldie's was THE place to go and play, jumping off the cliff, swimming, picnics. One year there was even a scaffolding to make it fifteen feet higher, and a pulley across and down to the other side for sliding down and letting go half way. I never did it myself, being more the sort of person who held the towels and made the sandwiches, but I have several reels of super8 film somewhere I really should dig out and get put on DVD. And the sun always shone, the water was always cold, none of that global warming nonsense then! Anyway, back in 2009, one of the young men did jump. Well done!
From one former granite quarry we walked across to the next one, Cheesewring, intending to follow the old railway track back to the village, only to discover our way barred by some high fences keeping us away from a very, very big hole in the ground where a new mineshaft had apparently opened itself up. Bit of a detour then back on the track and back down to Minions to the Cheesewring pub. It was getting dark by the time we got back about eight; soon it will be impossible to walk in the evenings.
We had a good meal, too, to round off the evening. No Eton Mess, but a non messy even sweeter equivalent called a Big Gooey Meringue. Quite an accurate description. That's my pudding allowance over for another month...

When it rains, the pond fills...

It's two weeks and two days since I started digging the pond. Twelve days ago I poured in a bucketful of stored rain water and left it more or less to its own devices. We haven't actually had 12 inches of rain in the last fortnight, as I've been collecting water in containers and adding that as well, but still it's been quick!
I didn't put the pond liner in quite level. I wanted a mini marsh at one end and I've had to wait for it to overflow before I could be sure of building it in the right place. This morning it was ready, so I built ramparts of the slate I mined and filled it with compost and moss so that it slopes nicely down into the water. Hopefully now the level will rise that final couple of inches.
Less than half an hour later I watched a dozen sparrows go from the seed feeders down to my new marshy pond margin and drink! If they like it hopefully so will other creatures. I did actually see a big adult frog within a hundred metres of my pond one day last week when I was picking blackberries just after a heavy shower. It was crossing the lane and going into the coombe, but at least it shows they are about.
I've now got three types of weed - some feathery plants from Roger's pond which are anchored to the bottom, mini floating plants which also came from Roger's by mistake and a big handful (85p) of proper oxygenating duckweed from the aquatics shop at Carkeel. I've stuck some more bits of ground cover plants at the back by the wall, as well. Viewed from above I feel that it does now actually look as if it is a permanent feature of the garden. There's something very satisfying about landscaping, even on this miniature scale. I find myself looking around for the next project...