A dash around one of my regular routes before the weather was due to change. Through Newton Wood, up Hanging Stone, and then on to Roseberry.
There were the remains of a fire on the Hanging Stone. Folk mulling over the meaning of life gathered around a campfire. An activity which has probably gone on for millennia. Here Martyn Hudson in his book “on blackamoor” contemplates that the Neolithic farmers may have left their dead to the birds and the wind before being placed into the howes on the moors. Similar I guess to the sky burials that are still carried out in Tibet.
And now for a completely unrelated random word of the day: ‘blatteroon’ 16th-century speak for a person who babbles or prattles on foolishly. Now, who could that possibly apply to?