April
9, 2020
Today’s
observation – Corona virus might be a great unifier, there is team spirit
coalescing across the country, especially in the hinterlands where incidents of
illness are fewer and farther between.
We wear masks in public spaces, maybe even gloves, try to keep the
prescribed social distances and quarantine periods, follow the other hygiene
protocol. All this not so much in fear
of getting sick as in consideration of our healthcare workers and other first-responders. Can these simple disciplines
spare them from the desperate chaos we read about every morning - the war zone stories
from New York, New Jersey, San Francisco, Nashville, New Orleans, Chicago? The
impossible barrages of crisis onslaught, the endless stream of crisis is
beating our best into a bloody pulp. So as not to feel dully helpless - we compile
with the CDC guidelines, keep up our end of the deal. Let our children eat ice cream and Doritos
for breakfast, help them learn to ride a two-wheeler when the parking lot is
empty, make cards to send to the city hospitals full of pink hearts and
messages of gratitude. What else can we do, what else? Two studies emerged in
the news this morning about new models on when our country would reach its
national peak in cases and deaths. One
study was based on the numbers out of China, Italy and Spain, forecasting the
peak coming this weekend. Another out of
Colombia University pushed the peak more toward mid-May, as it took into
account areas that would not widely practice CDC recommendations for protocol
until they directly experienced the outbreak. There is speculation that the
contagion will abate in summer and resurge in late fall. With all the possible scenarios around the
corner, each wearing a veil of speculative mystery, we are learning how to
bring decision making to the matters that we can control, allowing our lives to
move in smaller circles of execution. We do what we can to keep each other safe
and sane. Even indulging the kids and dogs more than we did in the old days. There is still no toilet paper on the shelves
at the grocery store, so maybe it’s time to install a bidet. I image those suppliers are seeing a healthy
untick in business.
Today’s
image – Life goes on. It is my afternoon
off duty at the dorm, and a little chilly with lots of wind pushing dark banks
of cloud canopy across the low sky.
Easter for us has been a season of chocolate eggs and jellybeans and marshmallow
chicks in a basket. We let others pay tribute to that unfortunate prophet on
the cross. I decide to push my luck and follow my safest protocols to get
chocolates out to the kids, calling my order in to the local chocolatier, picking
them up curbside and wiping the boxes down with disinfectant, then I box them
up at the post office, thankful for the large plexiglass screens between me and
the postal worker and the dearth of other persons in the building. There is someone
mopping the floors of front entrance, the smell of Lysol wafting like chapel incense
around us. Behind my mask I don a large smile hoping my eyes communicate the gratitude
I feel toward them. Then my Westie and I decided to get a walk in and set off
for large county park one half hour north. Being the only car parked in the trail head lot is comforting. I hope I’m
not being thoughtlessly reckless as I put my mask in my pocket to set out on
the empty trail. The forest canopy is
mostly naked, only a few buds and catkins have pushed out into the growing
light, but the forest floor is lush with emergent green and wildflowers. Life goes on.
April in Iowa arrives with a real panoply of weather. Within one hour, I walked in sunshine,
showers, snow, sleet and bluster. Life goes on, what a blessing. Looking out
over a lake edged with spring peepers, my gaze follows the brisk bursts of wind
ruffling the water, glinted in cascades of afternoon light. I imagine it is a wave
of fairies skipping in beautiful choreography across the surface. Yes, beauty
abides. In the cold drafts of wind
overhead turkey vultures pirouetted and I ride along. A brilliant red catches
my eye, it is a catkin laying in a riot of technicolor along the trail. I do
love the solace of wide open spaces. Is it possible to slow down enough, strip
our business down to basics so that we humans can find our space in the big picture
of the wider world? I am finding less
need to sweep up the detritus of winter along the back steps that trail down
the hill.
Today’s
idea – Let’s find new ways to make community.
Let’s pledge allegiance to reciprocity. Let’s do what’s before us and
teach our children well.
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