Widepolle, Barle valley Exmoor;
On a bright & misty morning, the 19th November 2004. I drove down
to Tarr Steps with Rintin. It was quiet & peaceful; a respite from
the two fiery arguements at the crack of dawn.
On the front cover of the Guardian, an open letter from a U.S war correspodent. A whistle blower; he had witnessed the cold blooded murder of an elderly Iraqi citizen. Shot by U.S forces as he lay unarmed & sleeping on the floor.
Rintin had vanished, she had been sitting outside as I read; with the
car door open. She had barely reached a year, born stone deaf &
followed me like a shadow.
After walking awhile across the open moor, a lady explained she saw Rintin crossing the river Tarr, heading west following two walkers. Some desperate 13 hours later of searching, I drove again to the steps & from a hill I began to flash the car lights over the moor in the same way I would call her home on the farm. In under an hour Rintin came back & met me at the steps across the Tarr.
We had only driven a mile or so when the car ran out of petrol. It was
less than 10 miles to walk home & even at midnight it was not so
cold. It was good to have her at my side.
We reached this bridge at Widepolle after seven miles. Our lives were about to change forever. We crossed the bridge, passed the old inn, & began to take the deathly quiet winding lane, that lead to home. There I came upon two men, both tall & thick set. They called out softly. Their car was parked a few metres behind them, with the lights & engine off. Indeed our lives changed forever, halfway down that pitch black road. I cannot say why life turns a cruel page for you sometimes.
in July this year I returned with Rintin & visited the things we never meant to leave behind.