A red squirrel darts across the path and I apply the brakes.
Unperturbed the animal pauses, perhaps to assess whether I
come bearing anything edible, before it turns and scampers up the trunk of an
ancient oak tree.
I move off again, slowly gathering speed past more elderly
oak trees and a shady lake where three swans swim regally across still waters.
This little vignette does not take place in some rural
idyll, however.
