But I’m starting to get annoyed with people.
People wearing masks in their cars.
On their own.
In their car.
Wearing a mask.
And, I’m also getting annoyed that masks and rubber gloves are fast becoming the new urban detritus. Our local Sainsbury’s car park is littered with them.
But, not just there, I’m also seeing them laying on grass verges; tossed onto roundabouts and carelessly dropped in the woods.
Yes, the woods: the beautiful woods where I walk Saber each evening.
I find it most annoying to stroll along the footpaths, lost in the beauty of the low sun filtering through the trees, dappling it’s light on the host of lilac bluebells that fill the woods at this time of year (yeah, Wordsworth: ‘host’ doesn’t just have to apply to daffodils, y’know!), only to stumble across an abandoned latex glove, laying there like five discarded condoms. It kind of ruins the mood.
But, it’s not the only thing in the woods that is annoying me.
Where once there was a still silence, broken only by the wind in the trees and the sound of twigs snapping underfoot, there is now a constant cacophony of noisy kids. It used to be that we would hardly see a soul as we did our circular walk, occasionally happening across a fellow dog-walker or two. But now, since Boris has decreed that we can only go out once a day to exercise, the woods have suddenly become infested with whole families using it for their daily perambulations; marching their way through and widening the footpaths; breaking off branches and trampling through the bluebells.
With ne’er a dog between them!
Get the fuck out of my woods, you noisy bastards and take your rubbish with you!