By: Blonde Two
Yesterday, the Two Blondes were both on Dartmoor but, for once, they were not together. While Blonde One was supervising a team of lads on an expedition, I took my sister for a wee Bimble.
Reports from across the moor suggest that people experienced a mixed bag of weather but Blonde Sis and I timed it just right despite stopping for soup at the lovely Ullacombe Farm on the way up. The wind was brisk and the sky was not still for a moment with clouds all of kinds scudding across it. (Is it only clouds that can scud?) Blonde Sis wanted to do some sketching and take some photographs so, after our climb up, I had plenty of time to admire the sky. I had planned to take a book up with me but took it back out of my rucksack when it occurred to me that time just to sit and look at Dartmoor was a luxury that I rarely had.
It was a wonderful experience, I wished I had a cloud spotters’ guide with me because there seemed to be more types of cloud all together in the sky than I have seen in a long time. It struck me that the only polite way to look at them was lying on my back so I found a convenient granite slab and did just that. It was a bit like flying because the sky scape was changing so quickly. I did, however get a very cold bottom.
It is Remembrance Sunday today and although, these days, I am not involved in parades, I do still like to stop and think. The clouds reminded me of a poem by my favourite poet W.B. Yeats. With the history of wartime plane crashes on Dartmoor, I think it is appropriate.