The Sparkes fly over Dartmoor

After a pleasant drive from Exeter, I am in Tamerton Foliot adjoining Plymouth to visit with my cousin Jan Sparkes and her family.  Her mum, Edna Morrison, was the last of her generation when she died last year, aged 106.

Here is Jan, standing outside their garden cabin, whilst giving me the guided tour of their new home. When I visited last, she lived in Bexhill-on-Sea, 

husband Chris.

My fifth cousin, Jenny Sparkes has lived in Plymouth for some time.

Here I am blocking out the sunny and bucolic views.

After supper we went for a drive across part of Dartmoor, the national park (Area of Natural Beauty) only a few miles away. Wonderfully preserved and spookily desolate (imagine in winter – brrr), 

cows and sheep freely roam (yes, I can tell the difference in these photos).

Windswept, the moors are known for their granite outcrops and hilltop tors – 

both near

and far.

And, of course, for its prison, often sinisterly appearing in books and film.

The natural and created beauty takes many forms,

including the Dartmoor ponies who live in the wild.