It’s early Sunday morning and my first job of the day is to take Jess Malko for a walk. Jess is our grand-dog and she’s staying for a few days while the rest of the family sailed off to the Netherlands for (if the WhatsApp photos are anything to go by) ice cream, crazy golf and duck feeding.

My mood was ‘neutral’, having had no time to consider any other but that was soon to change. I heard it before I saw it – a little wren singing its heart out. And there it was, sitting on the top of a bush at the side of the lane, little tail erect, not two metres from me, not at all concerned by my presence or that of Jess. I swear it sang to me because I stopped and spoke to it and it looked right at me and kept on singing. Wrens have amazing voices and I was transfixed. When I finally dragged myself away from this impromptu performance, I could still hear it from the top of the lane.

I was uplifted. I think that’s the best word to describe it. Its song stayed with me all morning and kickstarted my day. A tiny bird but a big, beautiful song, sung just for me…