Shh. Can you hear anything? No? Neither can I. The silence is deafening. It is the sound of Nothing Happening. It is most welcome.
It has been a busy week what with one thing and another. No time to draw breath etc. Today, however, I am home alone. Alan has gone to Chester to pursue the fine and contemplative art of gilding, dogs are in their beds idly scratching fleas and the world outside the window is almost still - only the gentlest breath of air ruffles the leaves in the dingle. The drone of a light aircraft disturbs the silence briefly, as does the twitter of a wren. I am keeping my head ducked below the parapet the better to enjoy my time alone - to all intents and purposes I am not here.
I venture off into reverie, for such is the luxury of solitude. In philosophical mode I wonder if this is what it would be like if I really were not here. The 'goings on' in the world outside my window, the fledgling birds, the magpies stealing hen food and the sheep's silent perambulations - are they less real because I am not out there amongst them? I have often flown over cities and imagined the various lives of their inhabitants - which I know to be happening - but their reality seems more remote than the height of an aircraft.
Then with a jolt - the phone rings - I am back to the here and now. A dog presses its nose, cold and wet, against my elbow. D and H and D's new car are coming for tea. Hurrah!
..........but there is no need to be sociable just yet.