SPRING

I have been working on this blog for three weeks, but because of the coronavirus my thoughts on what I should write about change daily. Fear and anxiety are pandemic as the virus spreads around the world. There is not enough information, or there is misinformation. Something is happening, but nothing is happening. I think of the words to a Bob Dylan song, “Something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is, do you Mr. Jones?” I take a slow, deep inhale. Exhale. Another, and another. I am present. I am calm.

In many places, activity is at a standstill. We are advised to wash our hands often, sneeze or cough into our elbows, confine ourselves, or at least practice social distancing. I love words and the feelings they evoke. I laughed when I first heard the term social distancing because it sounded contrived. It seems to me that we have experienced social distancing since the cell phone became a computer in the palm of our hands. We are surrounded by people, yet distanced from them while being connected to the whole world. Under current circumstances, social distancing means physical separation; and yet touch, whether a hug or the holding of a hand, won’t be available to us, especially to those most in need of that comfort when they are ill.

Oddly enough, the cell phone and social media are our connection now. Soon after the citizens of Italy were quarantined, there were posts of people singing and playing musical instruments from their windows and balconies in communities throughout Italy. The Italians lifted not only their own spirits, but the spirits of people around the world. St. Patrick’s Day festivities were canceled in Ireland, but the Irish shared posts of in-home parades and music.

As we begin to practice physical distancing here in the United States, we are reaching out on social media sharing musical parodies and comical memes, and telling stories of sharing and help given. I’ve noticed that there are more conversations on posts beyond the usual likes. We are checking in on each other more often. I received a phone call from a high school classmate this morning, someone I’ve stayed in contact with but haven’t spoken with in years. Perhaps social distancing will teach us how important we are to each other, restore a sense of commonality, and renew kindness and consideration towards each other.

I’ve been practicing social distancing. It isn’t a hardship for someone who is inherently introverted but can be extroverted when necessary; however, there’s a part of me that is restless and full of wanderlust. Travel plans have been put on hold, and because we haven’t been ordered to shelter in place, I go for daily walks around the neighborhood. I live in an area with magnificent trees that is walking distance to the Willamette River. Having lived beside the Pacific Ocean for many years, a fluent body of water nearby makes me feel whole.

Over the past month I’ve taken my camera on walkabouts to watch spring unfold. The crocuses are always the first to appear. Just when I think I cannot take another day of a drab Northwest winter, they push through hard ground, promising that spring is on its way.

Violets bloom next

Peeping from under their leaves

Their scent in the air

Dormant trees waken

Tipped with buds like Christmas lights

They bloom in pink frills

And then there are celestial events. Beautiful Venus flirts in the evening sky, the moon tagging close behind. The moon shows off during the day, and the Worm Moon was super. My Google Pixel phone has a night mode, so the sky appears brighter than it was.

The land bridge to Elk Rock in the Willamette River is already visible, an indication of the lack of rain we’ve had this year. We are rightly concerned for our health and that of our loved ones, but let’s not forget the health of our Mother, Earth. Perhaps she will also experience healing as we slow down.