DARTMOOR ROUGH
Christmas Eve: Dawn . A low sun struggled to rise behind the mist as I looked out my window at the River Dart. The mirror-sharp surface crinkled when a duck landed, unzipping the image. I looked to the left - Haytor was just visible in the distance. It was cold out there. Soggy jacket (the one with so many zips where I can never find anything) pulled on and I climbed into the reluctant old Land Rover, which takes forever to heat up.
Drove to one of the reservoirs on the moor and then Huckaby Bridge. Magic. No one out there except me and the Dartmoor Ponies. It was -3C in the shade, but I had good boots on and the double-layer jacket. After a gentle tab over the hills I stopped and looked across an empty world.
My favourite pub - where they let dogs in and have horses tethered outside - wasn't far away, and they do good vegetarian food and have a log stove. Muddy boots and paws are welcome. It's that kind of place.
So, here I am along with the Christmas beard which I grow every year (got to give your face a rest! and remember to give it a holiday as well - and smile).
So find yourself a spot somewhere, a bit of quiet, don't talk for a while, have a good look around, and see what it's really all about.
Hope you had a safe Christmas and that you got all the goodies you wanted. And somewhere in among the mince pies and nosh gave a thought, or more, to those that need a helping hand.
