Of course it’s great that people are finding solace in nature during this time of semi-lockdown, but in well-trodden suburban nature reserves this has different implications from the countryside. I have to confess I’m finding sharing my local patch with an influx of new walkers and runners quite a challenge, and yes I know that’s selfish.

With that in mind I’d resolved to get up earlier than usual this morning for my Sunday nature worship but don’t quite manage it.  In the end it was past seven when I set off after having recovered from a near disaster with my camera and a thermos of tea.

I return to my favourite bench in the clearing and enjoy the repetitious phrases of a song thrush overhead. At regular intervals people pass. Without exception, everyone who walks past the bench greets me cheerily and I find my curmudgeonly mood gradually lifting.

Perhaps we’re all craving connection… at a distance… with people outside our immediate household.

One smiley couple ask if I’m photographing parakeets. No, I reply, I’m waiting for the nuthatch to come near enough but it’s a thankless task. When they’ve passed I wonder at my turn of phrase. Having the opportunity and the equipment to photograph wildlife is a privilege and a joy.

Later on I’m prostrate with my head next to a patch of wood anemones which haven’t had enough sun yet to tempt them open this morning. A few people walk past and glance almost imperceptibly in my direction. As this is London, none comment on the middle-aged woman lying on the woodland floor.