Pines pointing to the stars

At dusk the pines around our camp became burnished in sunsetty shimmers.

From the crackly glow of the campfire we were looking up through the high heads of the pines

Into a voluminous darkness of sparkly glitters.

Being up on Dartmoor gives you that deep sensual awareness of night being properly distinct from day.

So many stars. You forget just how many stars there are up there.

Millions of millions.

Stars just about everywhere you can see.

Spreading out as far and as deep as your imagination can reach.

These pines seemed to be guiding our way in, giving us privileged access.

Paintings: Hazel Brown; Words; Ian Nisbet

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Pine Tree Camp Sketches

Drawing & Words: Hazel Brown

Wild Campfire

Miss H Brown also gets an extra Grade A merit and commendation as part of her Level 2 Wild Campfire module.

The requirements for which included

The making of,
The starting of,
The tending of,
The poking of,
The resuscitation of,
The killing off of,

And also,
Most importantly of all

– The marveling about –

A bona fide fiercely flaming
Wildcampfire.

However no sausages were killed or sizzled
In the making of said fire.

(Which unfortunately incurs the loss of one chocolate finger)

Vid & Words: Ian Nisbet; Campfire: Hazel Brown

Camping with the Tall Pines

As part of Miss H Browns Wild Camping Certificate she needs to complete 3 camps in wildly different locations.

Wild Camping Location No 1 was achieved last year (August 2016) on the Teign Estuary.

This was Wild Camping Location No 2. On Dartmoor.

To be undertaken within the vicinity of poisonous snakes (adders) finger-eating ponies, bum-bumping cows, a flock of piss-taking sheep, a medley of hooting owls, and a knock knock knocking woodpecker.

This was all fearlessly accomplished.

The Wild Camping Invigilator from the Nizzwaz Institute of Outlandish Pursuits, a Mr Bitz-Nizz – is satisfied therefore to certify that

Miss H Brown has now successfully completed Level 2 of her Wild Camping Certificate. Hurrah!

Dartmoor Stones

Granite…grey.
Quartz pitted
Lichened by light

Stone rows.
Circles and cup marks
Cairns on Cut Hill
Cists at Drizzlecombe

Who were they, these people of stone?

Into a 21st century dawn, tumbled
Bracelets, baskets and beads…!
Her goods for the ever-life
Leaving behind … her fears..tears..?
The stone people live on.
We are they.

Drawing & Poem: Hazel Brown