Lucky Heather

Hot on the heels of a trip to Plymouth we headed northwards to Somerset. In the interest of fuel economy in these expensive times we purposely planned back to back trips to save on mileage. Hot Stuff’s mum wanted to take her car out for a spin and proposed a trip to visit some of her favourite haunts on Exmoor.

Now Exmoor National Park that spans the top of Devon and Somerset isn’t new territory to me. It was the childhood home of my ex-husband. His family lived there while we were married. I spent many a day yomping over wild open moorland and exploring its woods and coombs. It’s a different beastie to Dartmoor, less craggy and exposed but just as beautiful nonetheless.

And it turns out that many of Hot Stuff’s favourite family haunts are places that are very familiar to me indeed. The wood where his dad’s ashes were scattered was one where I used to take Louis when he was wee. There was a massive felled tree that he particularly loved climbing on. It had obviously been downed for a long time. Hot Stuff played on its gnarly form when he was a child.

The moor was covered with a carpet of heather at the current time. Apparently it is an old Somerset tradition to pick some to bring you luck for the next year. Well I didn’t know that but I brought home a bunch in the pocket of my bag. Apparently it will dry out and keep its colour.

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