I have lived near Dartmoor National Park nearly all my life.
It is an area that could not fail to inspire, with its beauty and grandeur. Artists have painted it. Wonderful photographers have captured it. Writers such as Emily Bronte wrote of it in Wuthering Heights. Poets have tried to find words to describe it.
Come with me to the Moorland grey and I'll show you the blanketing fog.
Thick and dank it comes rolling in and hides both the cliff and the bog.
On a gentle breeze the moistened air kisses the granite walled pound
Where the animals hide from the soaking cloud that muffles every sound.
Come with me to the Moorland white and I'll show you the ice and the snow.
Deepening drifts on the easterly wind that howls over valleys below.
The farmers are out with their bundles of hay to feed the ewe and the cow
And the red haired fox is hungry and slim, but there's little provender now.
Come with me to the Moorland green and I'll show you the gorse and the heather,
Long soft grass and fire-formed rock that has been there for ever and ever.
I'll show you the streams and the tumbling falls that follow the rainy weather
And the blue dotted sheep that roam the slopes and the crow that has lost a feather.
Come with me to the Moorland gold and I'll show you a haven to lie.
In a scented wood we can touch and kiss yet still see the clouds in the sky.
The sun in the west will set ere long and the stars in their glory shine
And only then, in the evening air, will you really and truly be mine.
Geoff Stuttaford - Oct 99
It is a place that changes with the seasons and can almost have four seasons in a day. Moorland towns hard worn and granite grey speak of hardships and toil.
The tors rise from the moor majestic and proud. Hard as iron above the springy peat bogs and purple gorse strewn hills.
In a few weeks time we have a new little baby due in our family. A Great Grandson to my late father who was a vet all his life. He lived in a small village in the middle of the moor and kept two Dartmoor ponies near his house.When I was a little girl and we would drive on the moor I begged my dad to put one of the ponies in the boot and let me take it home.visitors still love to see them especially in the Spring time when foals abound.
So,when I thought of this new little baby and the blanket I wanted to make it, Dartmoor came to mind. An unusual colour palette for me but just thinking about the green grass,Devonshire red soil and bracken helped my selection.
The hues of heathers clinging to the land lighting the shadows with purples and pinks. Juicy wild whortleberries
I hope if ever you are in Devon you will visit Dartmoor and see its beauty for yourself.