I didn’t go to yoga today. Somehow I convinced myself I was too tired, too busy, too sad, and yet I really like yoga and it would have been better to go but sometimes you just can’t do what you need to do.

And then the platform I write this on made all the letters tiny on the screen and I didn’t know how to change it back, having not changed it in the first place. I shouted at the screen but that didn’t do anything. I did find the solution, but it still looks wrong. I’m going into the garden now to find the rest of the words I need.

It’s birdy in the garden, overhead, away. And then my little favourites come through, say hi, move on: long tailed tits, just two. Chin up, they say, look at us. Away there are jackdaws, starlings, a red kite. The sky has blue patches, and lots of puffy clouds. There’s a starling on the very top of an old fir tree, whistling.

There’s a flower on the rosemary bush, and it’s still January.

I’m breathing, that’s better. The world rattles gently.