I've been making the most of my time now that, once again, we are back in lockdown. Getting out into nature, observing the beauty, listening to the sounds, discovering new birds and animals. You will usually find me wrapped up in my scarf and the hat crocheted for me by my Aunty Teresa. I'll have the camera hanging from my neck and a flask of tea at the ready. Sometimes I even bring a biscuit.
Most days I don't have a plan. I might head to Woodstock, up past the Walled Garden near Knox's Bower, to hunt for squirrels. Often I go down to the river, if I'm lucky I will see the swans or perhaps a heron or a cormorant.
Wherever I go, I am always joined by a Robin. With their striking red breast they are instantly recognisable. The distinctive song always draws my attention. A wispy, relatively slow series of notes ranging up and down the scale, becoming more rapid in parts - the notes rolling into each other.
Of course there are many superstitions relating to the robin such as seeing a robin close by denotes good luck is on its way. Or if a bride sees a robin on her wedding day she will have a happy marriage. And my favourite, a visit from a robin is a sign that a lost relative is visiting.
Whatever the reason, you can be sure they will make an appearance come rain, hail or shine. Proudly showing off their beautiful plumage. Wanting to be noticed. Willing to be photographed. And I am more than happy to oblige.