Another stunning spring day, and I was foiled in my plans to food-shop thanks to the pathetic petrol-queueing mayhem that gridlocked Tavistock. So off we went for a long walk and a swim instead – who needs food?
I love the moors on days like these: the hazy, dreamlike view of Brat Tor and Widgery Cross; the smell of sheep-wee; the bleats of the ewes just loosed back out to lamb; the intermittent early skylark songs; occasional bumble-bees on gorse flowers.
I slid in on the shadowy side at Witch’s Pool and swam into the light to warm, golden water. Rambling downstream, dipping in each of the sequence of tiny pools, pushed under by waterfalls and sinking through crystal bubbles, I drifted into daydreams.