When we first moved here 20 years ago, I made myself a promise. I swore never to wear headphones outside. As much as I love music, I determined not to listen to it when out walking in the rippling fields and singing woods surrounding our village. Didn’t the world have its own tunes for me to hear? This afternoon that promise was broken. With rain hammering down on already sodden ground, I was seized with the need to escape the sopping January day. It felt strange walking down the village wrapped in a soundtrack of my own devising; to be outside and yet sealed in a bubble.