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Covid19 Journey Day 28


April 18, 2020

The river is still up above flood stage but dropping.  Covid cases in the nation are holding steady, Fauci predicts a decline, (Iowa is doing its own thing, so the state is up 89% this week) and people are restless. In the news there rallies in state capitals across the country, group protests mount to call for an end to government lock down.  The bottom line is hurting, they miss community.  Yep, we all share those feelings. And my cynical self suspects that these rabble rousers, itching to get back to “normal,” are being coached by the president. Their rhetoric resembles a Trump Rally.  He misses them too, even has sanctioned their outcries with tweets of endearment.  Meanwhile in Iowa, the vernal weather is quintessential, Persephone has made her mother beam with love.  And we are the happy recipients of her bliss.  Parks are sensibly full, kids playing outside.  The wildflower procession passes from Dutchman’s breeches to trout lilies, violets, mayapples and white toothwort.  The forest floor is so profuse because the canopy is still bare and open, where the silhouettes of limbs dance their shadows and creak it up with their closest neighbors.  Governor Reynolds announced classes would remain online until the end of the school year.  It’s still a mystery how and when the closing ceremonies will happen.  After week two, I hear that the kids are tired of virtual school.  It's really the community we all miss and mourn its slow return.  Our regard and respect and concern for health care workers and emergency responders keeps us home. There is bright breeze seducing us hikers like siren song.  But the parking ticket tucked under a wiper when I got back to the car, for having two tires on the grass, deflates that caprice, but only for a moment.

Today’s image – I explored the status of the local farmers’ market, thought about biking there today.  A video posted on their Facebook page confirmed that they were open and in compliance with current public health strategies and setups, germ-a-phobes paragon. A young woman wearing a cotton gingham mask, her smile reflected in her eyes, spilled the days news about life at the market, complete with a walking tour of vendor stalls, talking up the seasonal and perennial foods available. Locally grown and prepared meats, eggs, cheese, kombucha, beer, wine, pickles, breads, cakes, pies, flowers, and of course early vegetables.  Here is the traditional baseline for a supply chain.  To live in this agricultural heartland, its prairies, forests and marshes traded for more reliable cultivation and food culture, begs for one simple change- to make the farmers’ market an axis mundi for grocery shopping.  Can't find it there, go to the store.  Here is a life hub where we can know where our food comes from.  (Well, maybe most of the time)  And with so much up in the air and up for discussion about what will normal look like when we get back to it, here is a reminisce from the Hopi Elder’s Prophecy that was widely circulated when we walked into the new century:

            Where are you living?
            What are you doing?
            What are your relationships?
            Are you in right relationship?
            Where is your water?
            Know your garden.
            It is time to speak your truth.
            Create community.
            Be good to each other.
            And do not look outside yourself for your leader.
            We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Today’s idea – Balance might be a sister to patience.  We hold out both hands to weigh: where we are with where we want to be, being still with moving enough so to not go crazy, being selfless with taking care of ourselves, screen time with  time to gaze across the room or across the field, loneliness with resignation to do our bit, caution with laughter, worry with surrender.  I’ve lived long enough to understand there is a vitality that comes with dancing in the tension between opposing elements or ideas.  And if this is true, the mood of the nation could be a robust and healthy one, especially if we could manage life moment by moment and pay attention to what is truly needed, to listen to one another.  And then there is that pesky political tug and tussle between parties pulling the center so taut, it feels like a trampoline, causing reactions to fly around with more force and emotion than was intended or needed to be.  Is this infighting among citizens an effort to strengthen our political will?  Is it just quibbling because we are afraid?  Too often the roar of the populous sounds like a petulant tantrum rather than a call for accountability and justice or for help.

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