I perhaps shouldn’t admit this. After all, yesterday I had a copyedited manuscript arrive, and I’ve got to go through it all with a very fine tooth comb. And last Friday Comma asked me to write a short story for them. And I still have book 26 to write, so it’s not like I have all the spare time in the world. And yet, I was sitting at home today, staring at page 160 of the manuscript, while outside the sun was shining, and both dogs were bored, and I thought, “What the heck, it’s ruddy Sunday, after all!’
So I packed the camera, pulled on a fleece and a coat, fitted my boots on, took some biscuits, and set off for the triple row up on the side of Cosdon Beacon. A nice walk (see the photos in Flickr.com/photos/Michael_Jecks).
There was only one problem. It was so bloody lovely up there, I couldn’t just stop at the cemetery . . . I had to carry on to Little Hound Tor. And then Hound Tor. And then I was going to carry on farther, but guilt hit me. Instead I sadly turned away and returned over the top of Cosdon.
This little circle is one of those ancient rings which abound on Dartmoor. It must have held significant religious meaning for the people who lived here then. Sadly no one knows, of course.
I had a very good time, anyway. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be refreshed. And so, hopefully, will the dogs! Tonight, both seem to have been hit by sledgehammers. Either that, or I succeeded in tiring them both out!