It feels like we’re living in a disaster movie; at some point it will come to an end. For Barney the Beagle that cannot come too soon.

As I mentioned last week, self-isolation, being tied to my computer and Boris’ subsequent instruction to exercise each day has turned my occasional weekly run over the downs into a daily routine.

At weekends Barney would race out in front, eager to discover any new smells since his last visit. Now it’s a daily occurrence, the novelty has worn off. I have to persuade him off the sofa; he trots unenthusiastically behind me; takes every opportunity to pause and give a thorough, delaying sniff to whatever needs sniffing.

I’m the opposite. I can’t wait to get out there. What began as something I ought to do has become a moment of pleasure in an otherwise dull day. The uphills have become easier, the route less muddy and I am developing a finer appreciation of the countryside and natural world; the trees bursting into leaf, primroses, herons waiting by the swollen river, the occasional wren or finch, someone flying a hawk in one of the fields.

According to one naturalist, the absence of trains, planes and automobiles means that not only can we hear birdsong previously drowned out by man-made noise, but birds can too. Blackbirds, they claimed, will be more likely to find a mate this year; their ‘chansons d’amour’ will have a greater chance of being heard by their neighbours.

This is the tip of an iceberg. Measures taken to save lives and contain coronavirus are giving the planet a brief and unintended respite. Pollution in New York is down by 50 per cent, emissions in China have fallen by 25 per cent; coal use there by 40 per cent, satellite images show nitrogen dioxide pollution levels fading in Italy, Spain and the UK.

As economies grind to a halt and society locks down, pollution, the unseemly by-product of industrial life, is stopped in its global tracks. It’s just a blip; it doesn’t represent a move to the decarbonised sustainable economy necessary to save the planet. Industrial production in China is resuming. Back orders will be fulfilled. Coal will burn.

However you and I are never going to travel those extra miles to make up for the journeys we’ve missed; we won’t make extra visits to the pub, theatre and cinema, or buy those things we’ve managed without. And many people will have discovered that they can work from home, that meetings can be effective using Skype or Zoom , that you don’t have to travel to exercise or buy stuff quite so often.

The disaster movie and lockdown will come to an end. But life will never be the same again. That may not be a bad thing – for man, beagle or the planet.