Thursday 3rd June

Day 45

Yesterday I had lunch with two dear women, and another one in our thoughts, on a bright washed patio bordered with round bushes of marjoram, oregano, thyme and sage; tall spears of apple-mint poking between them. Beyond the herbs and a fence some sheep and their lambs grazed under a cluster of fruit trees - oblivious to us and our bowls of salad.

At noon today the sun burned down on our lunch and we had to hold the lettuce leaves down with forks to stop the wind whisking them off the plates.

I’ve been an Ophelia today - ‘like sweet bells, jangled out of tune and harsh.’ I’ve felt hounded by noise. Blackbirds like exclaiming tourists flapping in the apple tree; young children squealing in chase-me games; a hedge cutter like a demented wasp colony; in town the roar of families on half term cheering a bike race through the high street and next door the guitarist playing jazz, staccato through the walls.

But all this volume didn’t block out the fairground of my thoughts. ‘ I should be doing something else on this beautiful day’ has been the high pitched companion in my head.