Thud of Vita's paws as she races to catch up with me across the sodden ploughed field.
Swish of my boots through the long grass.
Splash and gurgle of water flowing out of the ditch into the stream at the bottom of the valley.
Angry chatter of a wren from the hazel bushes.
Distant cock crow, bark of dog and hum of occasional car speeding along the ridge.
Snuffle and snort from Vita as she buries her nose into holes and crevasses between the clumps of wet grass.
The crunch of our feet on the loose grit of the recently-repaired lane that climbs up between Monsieur F's two fields.
The snort of the horse in the field at the top and a sharp "Leave it!" from me as Vita shows too much interest.
The "pop, pop" of a distant shot in the woods on the far side of the valley.
The murmur of the Today Programme on the radio as we come back in the front door and the welcoming sound of the kettle coming up to the boil.
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