A calm, clear morning on Dartmoor and the shallow pools I pass are smooth as glass – scattered wedges of sky reflected between the grass and gorse. I am wandering the western edge of the moor, close to the village of Lydford, best known for its plunging gorge and waterfall. This is a place shaped by rain, from the peat bogs blanketing high ground to the rocky gullies carved by streams.
There are endless puddles and pools, and on this windless day they appear completely flat and still. Only when I look closely, I see that something is agitating the surfaces of the water. Every one of them quivers with life: whirligig beetles.
