I never wear headphones on my walks because I enjoy listening to the natural sounds around me: the song of the skylark, the wind in the hedge, a tractor starting up on a nearby farm, a collie dog barking and a mole rustling at my feet.
And then I hear, in the distance, the train going up to Crewkerne and then on to London and I think to myself, I'm so glad I'm out here in the wide open countryside, with just the dog for company.
Give me land, lots of land, under starry skies.
Or Dorset blue ones in this case.
And then Julianna Barwick's wonderfully evocative, choral loops just enter into my ears, as if by magic.
The grass has been cut for hay so we can walk down to The Wishing Tree without getting wet to way past our knees. The dog and I march along the striped carpet underfoot, which is not unlike something I've just ordered from the Axminster factory shop for the spare bedroom.
We reach The Wishing Tree and I stand with my back up against it. I gaze out across the field, to the squat church tower, the familiar farmstead and then the layered landscape beyond, which takes me from deepest Dorset to the Neroche Forest in Somerset, the trees at Windwhistle pointing the way.
The Wishing Tree's bark feels rough against my fingers. I turn around to face it and the trunk comes into contact with my cheek. I close my eyes and make a wish.
I can't tell you what I wished for because then it won't come true.
But here's to warmth, light and peace, on today of all days.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x