Happy Birthday

No, not me.

The day looked promising again before dawn but by the time we'd had breakfast and I was ready to go, it was throwing the rain down. Ah well, if it's going to be a bad weather I might as well embrace it and go up on the moor. As I drove up the long hill up towards Hay Tor I remembered that today was 2nd January, my mother's birthday. I changed my plan and turned right up to the parking place for the granite railway. As I parked up the weather started blowing up a storm. I got in the back and dug my weatherproof overtrousers out. It's not often that I can be bothered with them as usually I'd prefer to dry out when I get back. Today I knew my jeans would be soaked and uncomfortable in minutes.

I headed up the granite railway which was laid to run the carts from the quarries up behind Haytor that supplied the stone for so many grand London buildings of the 18th century. I turned right by the spoil heaps and descended into the quarry.

We sprinkled my mothers ashes here 22 years ago on the 2nd January 2000 and it's funny how many times I find myself unconsciously drawn here, either on the date or close to it. It tends to be busier here these days but on a stormy day like today there weren't so many people.

My blip is a close up of some old quarrying machinery.