Purdah Blog: Part !

In deference to age (only  mine fall into the relevant category) and underlying medical issues (only mine fall into the relevant category), we've entered into isolation and social exclusion. To a miserable old introvert like me, it's like all my Christmases at once! A slight exaggeration there but I suspect I am better equipped for not seeing people than most. And anyway, my ideal companion is stuck here with me.  Being incarcerated with someone you don't get on with doesn't bear thinking about, does it? We are lucky as there are certainly worse places to be under these circumstances: our garden is big enough for us to potter around in and it's easy to walk in the neighbouring countryside without impinging on anyone  else's personal space.

Our garden looks at its best at this time of year. Daffodils, primroses and hellebores in profusion.

The veg plot is almost ready for planting, but the beds in the foreground are where our dahlias will bloom.

An evening 2.5 miler from Cotehele Quay, taking all of the necessary distancing precautions, of course.

Lots of primroses everywhere on the walk, ranging from mass planting like this bank at the quay to individual plants scattered along the sides of the paths.

Evening falls on the Tamar.

The weir on the Morden Stream just up from Cotehele Mill. This is where the leat for the mill wheel (overshot, if you are wondering) comes from.

A flash of daffodils.

Although Cotehele House is closed 'until further notice' the National Trust are giving free access to the grounds to walkers.

The uplights on the trees would look even better if it was darker.

The Modern Weir. Just listen to the sound of the water and, every now and again, the birdsong.

On the path away from the weir. This illustrates the way in which the sound of running water acted as an accompaniment for most of our walk.