Contributed by Clive Venables (resident, writer, artist, farmer)
Dartmoor. A wild wet place abundant with hints of history as evidence of huge but transient efforts to tame it. Seen as a refuge from marauding gangs, a source of fuel and mineral goodies, a detention centre for P.O.Ws. and society’s delinquent hopeless.
Today the reluctant recipient of the deliberations of endless focus groups and bureaucratic committees bent on the burial of the stone movers, the excavators, the farmers, the builders and the innovators beneath a smothering blanket of well-intended resolutions and papers.
The South Moor drains to the sea by several rivers etched deep through the South Hams lowlands through golden honeycomb pools past agonised ancient oaks. I love it.