I wish myself among the trees but cannot hear myself wishing

I got a bronze fox-faced pin badge in the post this morning. I've often done an insomniac EBay purchase at wtf-o-clock but this isn't something I ordered. Plenty of people know I like foxes and pin badges, but there aren't many people who'd also know my postal address. And none of those suspects have bought me the badge. So there's a mystery. In the meantime the badge goes onto my olive-green coat. Thank you, unknown fox-friend!

Sunday I discovered a stretch of canal I'd never walked before: probably the Stratford-on-Avon one. It was a warmish grey day: dove, rather than concrete. Lots of little woodland walks off the towpath, most too muddy to trudge just yet. But on one we found a broken off spade-blade jammed into a tree-stump: it looked like a test for a King Arthur who preferred allotments to round tables. At the edge of a field, a hollowed/burnt-out oak next to the rusting motorbike that presumably caused a fireball. I could stand in the hollow without ducking.  Further on a trim navy-and-red narrowboat called BRASSO - even down to the original logo on the side.  There was a woodpecker drumming in the trees on the other side.  More exploration as and when it's drier.

I both really want an end to this lockdown and feel queasy about the plans to get us out of it. I never could read roadmaps. I'm not convinced Johnson can either.

I can at least tell you Marmite Cheddar is tasty.