Day 17 – The Wonder of Nature

I have officially been working from home for 12 days.  It feels like the “new normal” and Darren and I have fairly seamlessly settled into our daily routine.

Mind you, Darren is still a little lost at times, so last night I made him a mini-treasure hunt.  I present him with clue number one this morning, which he accepts with a quizzical look.  Ten minutes later I can hear him muttering the clues aloud and pacing up and down the hall.  He triumphantly finds the “treasure” – half a pack of gingernut biscuits and some Lidl own Monster Munch – and cheers from the other end of the house.  “Sorry it wasn’t a very exciting prize” I call down the hall, “I haven’t really been out anywhere.”

I have that Friday Feeling and happily chat with my team over video conferencing, before busying myself with a list of actions.  Spag Bol is on the lunch menu (#batch cooking) and then I go out for my daily walk.  Today it is warm enough for me to leave my coat, gloves and hat at home – hurrah for Spring – and I go out in my “running gear” (which is actually what I have been wearing all morning, teamed with trainers and a hoodie).

I leave Darren sawing timber in the courtyard and trot off down the trailway, not another soul in sight.  Everywhere I look there are tiny flowers blooming in yellow and lilac, shiny green leaves sprouting from the trees and creatures emerging from hibernation.   I come across 2 iridescent beetles – one bright green and one peacock blue – their shiny shells glint in the bright sunshine.  However, on closer inspection I realise they are actually mating, so feeling a little voyeuristic I move on.  I hear the chuff chuff call of a lone pheasant and watch him wonder around a field, seemingly lost.  Then I pass by a couple of fuzzy, plump bumblebees, searching for nectar.

My brisk walk turns to a gentle jog and I turn on to the bridleway, following fresh horseshoe prints.  As I head for the disused railway bridge, the stream trickles gently and the sun dapples through the trees and causes patches of yellow on the grass.  I am jogging at a comfortable stride and enjoying the peaceful countryside, when suddenly I hear a chorus of shrill tweets, almost scream-like.  I look up to see the creamy-brown belly of a sparrow hawk as it swoops overhead, clutching a tiny brown bird in its talons.  I duck down, a bad swear word slipping from my lips.  Seeing this majestic bird soaring above me, I am all at once struck by its beauty, yet horrified by what I have just witnessed.

I take a deservedly long, hot bubble bath that evening, washing away the trauma!  I scrub, then lie back so that my purifiying face mask can work its magic.  As my roots are looking a tad grey and dull, I have also washed in some temporary pink hair dye, so I let that settle in as well.  I shall be a new woman after this!

It turns out that the dye has not had quite the desired effect…rather than absorbing into my grey and blonde bits, it has markedly taken in some places, turned some of it a peachy-auburn colour, but barely even touched the rest.  How disappointing.

My skin is glowing(ish), so I get into my comfies and give Darren a catwalk stroll through the living room, swishing my newly dyed locks.  “How does my hair look?” I ask, hopefully.  He pauses, his head cocked to the side, “well, it’s a bit grey and gingery…why?”

Never mind.