Our favourite local walk takes us over Mill Hill, alongside fields with hedgerows stuffed with berries, and through a small wood. We tread carefully to avoid the holes excavated by badgers. Through the young trees we glimpse this millpond with a perfect reflection of the redbrick barn beside it. Sadly, I can’t seem to get the water to look wet. I also don’t know quite why I call it a millpond, given that the mill was about three fields away.