As I finish writing the previous post the phone rings. It’s miss on Miss’ mobile. She’s lost her own phone somewhere between now (she’s twenty miles away in Nailsworth) and this morning, when we went for a ramble in Tortworth Arboretum, so can I look in my car please? Well of course, it’s not in my car, and I wander around the house phoning it and listening for the ring tone… nothing.
Sooooo…. off to Tortworth Arboretum. Well it’s only 30 acres, right? How hard can it be? D’uh!
I walk the route we took, as well as I can remember, phoning miss’ phone every few minutes and listening until it diverts to voicemail. Nothing. Eventually, I stand silently and deliberately become one with the woodland, as silent as the whispering wind through barely budded branches. Dial. Listen.
There’s a rustling, right by my feet, as if a small creature was hiding under the leaf litter, trembling at my presence. Under a scant cover of leaves her mobile lies, purring softly with the ring tone turned to silent. On the last breath of the draining battery. How lucky is she? My thanks go out to the woodland as I dial Miss’ number and report all is well.