My husband, step-daughter, the dog and I took a winter's walk on Scorhill Down -- a mystical slice of moorland just past the nearby hamlet of Gidleigh. Greeted by Dartmoor ponies, we followed the boundaries of a farmer's field...
...to a track leading onto the open moor...
...where a circle of standing stones...
... whispered Bronze Age secrets only the pup could hear.
We traveled on to the Wallabrook...
...crossed a clapper bridge...
...and followed its length...
...until it was time to head home...
...as the dying sun faded into mist.
