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The river Dart marks the border between the hilly agricultural area into the real moors. There is still the odd patch of rural land in between the hills but the deeper you get into the national park, the more dominant the moors become. The hills are still rolling here but they become more and more an alleged wasteland of monotonous brown and yellow marsh grass only very rarely interrupted by a lonely tree (the term tree is usually an exaggeration for the dishevelled low plants that manage to survive here).
A little walk into these marsh grass fields shows why they are the lone survivors here. The soil is very wet and in most parts, there is no firm ground at all. If you get lost here during a foggy day you are in trouble.
My drive along the only street through these moors was blessed with good visibility for a while. But as I passed Two Bridges and drove into the particularly barren hills just north of Postbridge a wall of grey clouds crept over and hills and followed me. On the highest point of the road up in the hills I stopped to have a closer look on the moors. I was blessed with this look for just a few minutes until the foggy clouds reached me, obscured the landscape and added some more water to the already soaking wet ground.
I waited for about 20 minutes hoping that the clouds would pass and the rain would stop. But it never happened. I wasn´t equipped with suitable clothes giving enough protection from the rain to dare a little walk so I just could watch nature being nature from the van.
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