The sound of the mill stream cascading down the hill is joined by the high winds pushing through the trees and hedges. It is difficult to hear anything on the walk up the hill and Rosie and I both strain to listen for any cars or tractors – few that they are. Her canine ears are usually better.

Hazel  trees covering their bare branches in yellow catkins bring bright flicks of colour to the scene. Today they wave soggily in the wildly stormy wind and rain today but still brighten up an otherwise drab day in Fermanagh where even  the sheep in the fields look soggy. Anything blossoming at the moment has to contend with rain.

The primroses are gathering, in small groups, blossoming valiantly and there are more on the way. Even when they are so close to the mill stream full almost to the point of overflowing and enveloping them. Further up the lane hundreds of snowdrops cover the ground under the trees beside the old mill and seem completely unperturbed by the water rushing past them. There is obviously a lesson there for me. It doesn’t matter what is going on I just need to focus on what I am doing. Everything will sort itself out – even Covid.