It is bloody nippy on top of Dartmoor on the twelfth of March.
I should have taken gloves!
Brrrr.


Last photo interrupted, not so much by the baying of a terrible hound, Mr Holmes, so much as the whinging of a chilly saluki who felt it was well time to go home.
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Date: 2017-03-12 10:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-03-13 09:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-03-13 08:51 am (UTC)I thought our local heaths were a bit bleak, but really they are amateurs compared to Dartmoor.
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Date: 2017-03-13 09:02 am (UTC)I have never felt less like ice-cream, myself, but surprising numbers of people were eating them, huddled in the shelter of their cars!
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Date: 2017-03-16 11:39 pm (UTC)I am shocked. SHOCKED, I tell you.