Yesterday we walked from Rockford to Watersmeet where East and West Lyn combine . We followed the river as it hurries and scurries on its urgent journey through the narrow twisting valley to reach the Bristol Channel -sometimes cascading over waterfalls -sometimes pausing in gin clear pools before continuing on its noisesome way -always the sound of water.The path rises and falls through the woods which hug the side of the valley . The sunlight filtering through the trees danced on the woodland floor and created delightful patterns of light and shade. Mosses and lichens hung off trees and rocks making miniature gardens of greens and soft greys inviting the touch .At Watersmeet we left the river and climbed the steep sided valley up through the woods and out onto the open moor .Soft springy grass underfoot-the warm smell of sheep -butterflies bathing their wings in the morning sunshine . I have always wondered why they are called butterflies and not flutterbies which seems far more appropriate .Out on the open moor purple ling and bracken border the path and the air is so fresh that I want to feast on it . On a day like today I could walk forever. Onward and upward until we reach the top of Countisbury Hill with its spectacular views across the Bristol Channel and along the coastline to where the river emerges at Lynmouth with Lynton clinging precariously to the side of the cliffs above it.At the top the hill in a sheltered spot is The Blue Ball Inn our destination. A pint of Exmoor Ale and ploughman's lunch my reward for my mornings exertions .Sunday I return home ,it seems like I have been away for ever but I have that sense that when I am back I will feel as though I never went but holidays are like that aren't they - distant memories ,perhaps that will be enough to help me on my way - I hope so.
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