Well that’s that then. Boris has decreed there must be no more wildlife trips for the foreseeable future.

In fact we must not go out anywhere except for the bare necessities of life.

Coronavirus has persuaded the government to override its own mantra about countryside trips being great for physical and mental wellbeing. I’d go further. I’d say they have the therapeutic powers of Barbara Windsor bouncing through a men’s geriatric ward in tight nurse’s uniform.

Wild Things: The problem with animal protection laws

However we must all obey government instructions to stay home and limit outings to a single physical exercise walk each day. But we have our memories. My last countryside trip for some time happened on March 18 before the shutters descended.

The venue was a wooded Kent valley with its own micro climate. A chill wind swept across the field path leading to the valley but once there the valley sides offered protection and spring sunshine warmed the skin as well as the soul.

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Peacock butterfly by Tony Dunstan

Greenfinches bellowed long wheezy calls from a yew tree before a spectacular male yellowhammer sang his “a little bit of bread and NO cheeeese” song from the top of a hawthorn bush.

Then a nearby chaffinch chimed in with its descending summer trill. A warbler appeared, identifying itself by shouting “chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff.”

Wild Things: A trip into the windswept wilderness

Activity in and around this farmland wasn’t limited to birds. Two brown hares loped slowly down a ploughed field. Suddenly one of a dozen buzzards circling in the blue sky above gave its high-pitched mewing call. The hares froze, retracted long, black-tipped ears, folded up telescopic rear legs and crouched down, invisible against the dirt background where stock doves fed alongside chaffinches and yellowhammers. The disappearing trick meant hare was off the buzzard menu for a while.

Movement betrayed a peacock butterfly settling on ground vegetation. My first butterfly of the year. Jackdaws, crows and rooks provided a backdrop of raucous, squabbling sound.

Nothing rare turned up. It was just a marvellous day in a valley where no vehicles could be seen or heard, not a single aircraft flew overhead and no other human being trod. Let’s hope days like this can be enjoyed again soon.