Category Archives: Dartmoor

Experiment: book title in tin

A couple of the best castings from yesterday. Much less formal and more uncontained than I envisaged, these initial attempts are encouraging. I need to find a way of casting them thinner or reducing their thickness once cast, maybe by filing (in order to make them lighter and less prominent). This will allow me then […]

Wistman’s trunks

Wistman’s Wood is alive with twisted, mossy shapes, bearing testimony to the hardships of its ancient existence. The wood has a peace which is striking from the moment you set foot under the canopy. I have been there in winter storms and balmy summer heat and, whether arriving wet and frozen or sun-beaten and parched, […]

Wistman’s Wood: trunks, sunshine and shade

Trunks, sunshine and shade under the canopy.

Wistman’s Wood: shadow, moss, rocks

The magical Wistman’s Wood, filled with twisted, mossy, stunted oaks. Even when deserted, it is impossible to sit amongst the boulders and trunks and feel alone here.

Falls – West Dart River

My route crossed the river once more: brooding sky, cascading, peat-laden water.

West Dart River – Swirling Water

The Dart is a beautiful companion, continually moving, tracing lines, shapes, geometries of its own. Descending into the shallow moorland valleys hear the high, embracing pitch of the constant breeze punctuated by its roaring and gurgling. To be near it means to drink, to bathe; cool respite; thirst slaked by cold, peaty water of life.


The West Dart River – beautiful, cool and lively.

Beardown Man and clouds

The intricately patterned granite monolith displays a texture reminiscent of the patterns in the clouds. The sky and land so frequently seem unified here on the moor.

Mist, lichen, rock

I have fought shy of the truth of this photograph for some months now. My photographic eye by default favours contrast and shadow whilst here there is little of either, and, as a result, I nearly discarded this image. Now time has passed, I am revelling in the delicacy of the grey, the softness of […]

Dartmoor – Beardown Man

Sharp wind wrapping ancient stone Sun, time-telling, spiking earth. Menhir piercing the millenia with a howl and a sigh, drawing its arc, digging its home, pointing the endless way.