Upsides

It's remarkable how much the CV scare has altered the soundscape in this corner of suburbia – for the better. The background hum of traffic has died down almost to silence; overflying planes are few and far between; and, with fewer people out and about, the level of human hubbub is way down, almost to nothing. This is what the world sounded like in my boyhood, except that back then there was a good deal more of the human hubbub, as more people were out and about, walking rather than driving. Walking, talking, and indeed whistling, that now rare suburban sound.
  This return to an unfamiliar level of peace and quiet is very welcome. And, for those of us under orders to 'self-isolate', there are undoubted compensations in being obliged to spend more time at home and less out and about and socialising. Our 'to do' lists should dwindle as we finally get down to long deferred tasks, and for anyone who loves reading – and writing – this extra time is a boon, a chance to catch up on both, with fewer distractions. The same goes for listening to music – and, thanks to digital technology, we have all the music (and, if you can bear reading online, books) we could ever want, available to us at virtually no expense of effort or money. If we're going to be housebound, we live in the best possible times for such an ordeal.
  Outside, there's an encouraging sense that all this is to some extent building community spirit and a new awareness of the needs of our neighbours. Let's hope that will continue to develop. Meanwhile, however, the panic buyers seem only to be gaining strength. My local Sainsbury's this morning resembled a Soviet-era supermarket, with little left on the shelves. The toilet-paper hoarders are back in action, and, having stripped the shelves of tinned, packeted and frozen foods, the panickers have moved on to breakfast cereal (all gone) and even fresh fruit and vegetables. The madness continues – and I fear the supermarket's new policy of opening early especially for the over-70s has only made matters worse. Oldsters can be formidable shelf-strippers. One thing's for sure: I'm not going to be hauling myself out of bed at 6 in the morning to join them in their endeavours.
  Today's butterfly first: a Comma, basking sleepily by a (suburban) footpath.