By: Blonde Two
The great, long and dark sweep of Fernworthy Forest against its surrounding barren moorland never ceases to excite me. From a distance, it is a line of contrast, dark against light. A line whose contours, to those who love Dartmoor, are wholly recognisable and could not be confused with those of any other forest. More closer by, the line is both diminished and exaggerated. You can walk along its edges for what seems like an eternity and yet not glimpse more than a few metres into the dense conifers.
You can spot Fernworthy from all sorts of unexpected places on the moor and it is always that line of forest against grass that draws your eye. It is a strange place. If you walk through the forest from the reservoir and get to Forest Gate, the view of the moorland opening up after the darkness of the trees is breath-taking. It makes you want to stay inside and shelter. Conversely, if you walk down the line of the forest (especially at night), it is the moorland that feels safe and the forest threatening.
On Saturday, the snow and the cold seemed to exaggerate these effects and Fernworthy’s edge looked even more fantastic and mysterious than ever.