"At 9pm, with only the faintest glow left in the west, the birds stopped singing. Venus blazed and, as darkness deepened, others joined: Arcturus, Procyon, the Plough. A breeze riffled ink-black trees. Bats swooped. Something scuttered in the hedge. I knew exactly where I was; I’d walked this circuit of country lanes many times, and since lockdown almost daily. But I’d never done it at night. This time I wasn’t just walking with my legs; I was walking with every pore, every nerve. ..."
Could almost be written by Boris himself.
[1] https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/unite...
Looking forward to the next article on how she doesn't like sushi. Having fish and chips? A joy. A good Bouillabaisse? A delight! But raw fish with soy sauce and rice? Thanks, but no. Ok.