I’ve been to Cornwall today. My wife had some work there and I went along as passenger and companion.
I know the county well but am always struck by its unusual qualities. It feels a more ancient land than other parts of England, as though it was trodden by feet long, long ago.
On the way down we saw a copse of trees fringing the top of a hill. They were obviously not that old but the way they were planted in a ring around an empty space gave them the look of some ancestral place of worship, perhaps a temple, perhaps a burial place.
The uplands of Cornwall are bleak and mysterious. We crossed Bodmin Moor which always looks as though it is cloaking secrets to its chest. Stranger beware. In the middle of it is Dozmary Pool. I love to visit it and always keep my eye open for an arm rising above the lake brandishing Excalibur as if to say, ‘See it is all real, after all.’