No chance to say sorry after disturbing afternoon nap

GETTING out for a lunchtime walk has become something of a ritual in this home-working age, which for the past year has been my ‘new normal.’

In fact on March 17 (I only remember this as I made a point of writing it in my diary at the time), it will be my one-year work from home anniversary, the day when myself and all my colleagues across the company started basing ourselves from dining tables, living rooms and spare bedrooms.

I’ve spent so many mornings, lunchtimes and early evenings in the network of fields opposite our house that there is now a very neat well-trodden path right around the perimeter. It might even be visible from space!

And in nearly 365 days, no two walks have been the same. There’s always something to see.

Take yesterday, for example. Come lunchtime, the early frost and nip in the air had been replaced with spring sunshine. Neither too hot, nor too cold.

Just lovely. One of the fields, which we actually own, drops gently down to meet the natural border of the woods, and on days like yesterday it makes for a proper little sun-trap, sheltered from cold winds overhead.

Clearly the local wildlife have realised this too. As I walked my usual route, I suddenly became aware of an obstruction up ahead. Curled up in a tight ball, out from the hedge to no doubt take full advantage of the sun’s warmth, was a fox. Bathed in sunshine while enjoying an afternoon snooze, its distinctive orangey-red fur was beautifully vivid and flaming with colour.

I tried to tiptoe close enough for a photo, but in truth I never stood much of a chance when pitted against those satellite dish ears. Soon enough he (or she) was up and beating a hasty retreat into the woods. I didn’t even get a chance to apologise!