Lockdown and the eerie sound of silence...

I can go a whole day without hearing a car pass the house, though every day is not like that.

On Monday I welcomed the sound of the refuse collection team; all that banging of bins, revving of engines and happy banter as the collectors got to work, a combined noise that can be irritating if you are out trying to go somewhere in a hurry. Bless them, theirs is a tough chore, but I’m happy to let them know I’ll be listening out for them next week because there’s not much else making a noise now that we are in lock-down.

Of course, there are noisy birds and I have plenty of them around - seagulls, crows, pigeons and doves, not to mention the usual flocks of blackbirds, thrushes and a variety of small ones from robins to sparrows. Just occasionally the dog charges manically out of the door to scatter them, so I welcome his noise too.

A couple of days ago a man on an ancient, noisy motorbike went past. No doubt it’s the love of his life and he was probably off work due to the viral crisis so took the opportunity to give it a spin down the road. Himself does the same occasionally when he decides to give his motorbike an airing. I won’t ever complain again about the noise it makes.

The big shock was hearing that Prince Charles had tested positive for the virus. He might be the heir to the throne but he’s as vulnerable as the rest of us and the shock of his misfortune saw the BBC go into overdrive.

Funny how the prince got it and not Camilla, whose health has been a source of concern.

The couple are now at Balmoral where, hopefully, he will find peace and quiet to get over the shock.

We do worry for the Queen, who, at 93 years, has had to escape to Windsor.

Off she went in her state car, her favourite dog on her knee, no doubt knowing she ran the same risks as the rest of us.

But, back to the silence.

Two weeks ago I was cursing the roaring wind when I could scarcely hear myself speak, but as I write it is dead quiet outside.

Not a bush moves and there is no ruffle of leaves since its early spring and they are still forming on the branches.

No-one in the vicinity is mowing a lawn or trimming a hedge with one of those cutters the noise of which I absolutely hate. Yet, I would have welcomed any noise this week.

I suppose we are all a bit shell-shocked at the rapid change in our lives.

When the Prime Minister came on television the day after Mothering Sunday, when the entire population, it seemed, was out enjoying the event, I could see the anger in his eyes and knew the news was bad. I knew he meant business.

No more gadding about was to be permitted.

On Mothers’ Day we had gone out because it was such a nice day. We decided to go to Slemish, a beautiful part of the county, a place which gets most of its visitors on St Patrick’s Day.

The beautiful, mysterious former volcanic core, which Slemish is, had an air of bemusement about it at the sight of oodles of people climbing up its tracks, leaving dozens of cars at its foot.

The noise of revving engines was deafening.

Sights like these, I suspect, left Boris ballistic.

Frankly I didn’t expect to see it, given the circumstances – we had already been warned about gadding about - so maybe now Slemish can enjoy peace and quiet until this crisis is over.

So, how will we all fill our days when we can’t get out much except to buy food, greet visitors to our homes, or enjoy a coffee out with friends?

In truth, I don’t know at this early stage but one thing I’m grateful for is the humour of the internet era.

Daily, friends send me hilarious video clips, which I send on to others.

The only noise in my house is the laughter these create!