Furloughed

That’s not a word I had actually heard of before March, but here we are. I’ve turned on my work out of office assistant as I’m now forcibly off work until at least the end of May.

It’s a bittersweet thing. Long sought freedom at a time when we are under a Corvid induced lockdown. I know I’m incredibly lucky to be locked down out here miles from anywhere, and every day I count my blessings as I walk the dog, run or cycle round the estate. Lockdown here is a very different thing to lockdown for many and although I don’t want to be the smug git out here, I do want to pick up this writing again and hopefully in my own little way to give some sense of the world out here as spring wakes around us.

So, spring has crept in to the Wiltshire landscape around us as the virus pandemic took over the news channels. Snowdrops, Primroses, Daffodils and Blackthorn buffeted by early spring easterly breezes.

Anemones blanket the woodland floor and the damper edges now smell of ramsons and warming earth.

Across the ridge of the estate the Pitton Valley is still full, the river Dun flowing across the fields well upstream of the village. The water table so high that the river, which is usually running below ground here, has pushed up and is cutting a course through the crops.

As we emerged from the woods and crossed the fields towards the newly emerged watercourse a strange cry is carried on the wind and a lapwing takes off in front of us. The first time I’ve seen one on the estate.

Anyway tomorrow is another day. The first full day of furlough and my first without the routine of the day job. It feels a little surreal.

For now, the dog needs a run, and I have an old brick wall to rebuild.

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