It's muddy, mossy and moist down by the river Dart at New Bridge ( re-built in 1942) on Dartmoor this afternoon.
I've only ever walked here with Robin. Today it's totally deserted except for a few brave canoeists, and this curious pony, sticking his nose through my car window, hoping for apples.
I'm learning to walk alone in places imprinted with memories....his footsteps on paths knobbly with roots, his voice echoing over rushing water, his hand holding mine, the other one dangling loose by his side.
In spite of a movie - actually some fascinating Pathe News clips from the 1960s in an unusual bus - The Reel Cinema at Dartington - and lunch with a dear friend, a seam of tiredness has been dogging me all day. Almost too weary to go to bed now....
No comments:
Post a Comment