But there's always next year and certainly the Autumn.
The sun has been missing because the weather has turned away from the fine but cold arctic flows back towards the wet but mild Atlantic systems. Not being cold is a good thing of course, but I'd take the clean crisp air and crunchy grass anyday over driving misty rain and sodden turf. But, of course, this is Dartmoor and you have to take the downs to get the considerable highs.
And in that vein, it was interesting to have an excursion eastward to the ouskirts of Bournemouth (for a family do) where I found the 'dour Stour'.
Taken from the hotel window at dawn - four pints of Ringwood Forty Niner is not condusive to late sleeping for some reason - this was just about the most vibrant picture available that morning. The next one, cropped to diminish the grey sky, was taken some four hours later from the top of the island that you can see in the first picture.
At this point the Stour is on an upward meander amidst its inexorable drive south east towards its destination at Christchurch Harbour. Although you can't get a sense of it from these pictures, it's an extremely fast flowing river that befits the sernse of its description as dour - obstinate, sullen.
Follow the Stour upstream, taking its eatern arm when given the choice (but not choosing the Winterbourne because that would just be pedantic), you eventually get to Hod Hill, an imposing Iron Age Hillfort that was taken by Vespasian on his passage west. After the assault, the victors, just to be sure, built their own fort; showing the locals exactly how this fortifcation thing was done.