The view from here

I’m out with the dogs bright and early-ish this morning and Mr Grigg is in the shop.

I cross the road to avoid The Charming Old Gentleman with his little Westie and greet him from a safe distance .

Strange times.

The village is almost devoid of traffic. Usually, at this time of day, it would be White Van Man City, with tradesmen roaring through at breakneck speed. Teenagers would be gathering on the village green waiting for the bus. Little ones would be walking down the road, hand-in-hand with their mothers, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in readiness for school.

Today, the only people I see are The Charming Old Gentleman, Our Lovely Vicar – who is out for a jog before keeping the faith with a prayer with her congregation over Zoom – and Mr Brogue Boots on his way back from the shop, balancing precariously on The Angel of the North’s bicycle, a two-litre container of blue-top milk in the basket.

On the grass triangle opposite the old pub, Celebrity Farmer has left a trailer for the verge planting event scheduled to take place this weekend.

It’s still going ahead but only one household will be able to take part in pre-booked time slots at any one time. They have to bring their own tools with them.

In the months to come, we’ll be able to enjoy the wild flowers growing there. It will be wonderful to be able to do that en-masse, but who knows how long this lockdown will last?

I’m not even sure we can come up with a tune a day for the next three months for the Sound of Music Through The Square Window.

In the corner of the fields I can see there’s been a hard frost this morning, which is being blasted out of existence by the heat of the rising sun. I wish the sun could do that to coronavirus.

Up on the hill, there is no-one about and the only sounds are the heavy knock-knock-knocking of a woodpecker, a trilling blackbird, a few wood pigeons and the mechanical whirring of pheasants in the undergrowth.

We reach the top and look out onto a world unchanged but changed in so many ways.

I briefly sing ‘I can see the sea‘ because I can, do a circuit of the hill top and then head down into the woods, through the time portal gate and back down into the enchanted village.

That’s about it.

Love Maddie x

Author: Maddie Grigg

Maddie Grigg is the pen name of former local newspaper editor Margery Hookings. Expect reflections on rural life, community, landscape, underdogs, heritage and folklore. And fun.

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