We were invited to visit Knightshayes accompanied by the former head gardener who had been involved in designing and planting the gardens for over forty years from the early sixties. He was talking about the trees he had planted from seed, about the garden and woods from before the garden and woods were there, about the way they had collected trees and plants, about why they had put them here . . . or there.
We walked from Drewsteignton to Chagford on a rare hot, sunny day. I was being introduced to the walk – “It’s a great walk. Not too difficult.” It is and it wasn’t.
A chance photo . . .
In the Preface of the book I have just started to read*:
Moving away from boats for a moment and on to walking and photography . . .
. . . a birthday treat. The train meandered through Devon – Newton Abbot, Totnes, Plymouth, and on to Cornwall, threading it’s way down the county, stopping everywhere – Saltash, Liskeard, Bodmin Parkway, Lostwithiel, Truro, Par, St Austell, Redruth, Camborne and Hayle, before we changed at St Erth, with time for a coffee in the tiny station cafe. And then Lelant Saltings, Carbis Bay and finally St Ives, to step from the platform into a world discovered by artists long before the holidaying public came to stand and stare, to eat pasties and ice creams and tempt hungry seagulls that know no better.