I'm calling it Day #18, because the day I couldn't help thinking all of the virus-hex was deadly serious was the day the NCAA tournament was shut down, redefining "March Madness."
If it's Day #18, then it seems fair to say that the last 14, have been, here at least, awful weather-wise. Not wicked, just awful--wind and clouds and gloom. But yesterday we caught a break: it was a very real Sun-day. The wind abated, and the Puddle Jumper Trail was full of people (keeping their distance). When I got out there, it seemed far warmer than I thought it would be. I couldn't help thinking that what we'd missed in that cloudy cold was the actual death of a season. There's actually green stubble out back, gorgeous stubby stands of emerald. I can't remember ever being surprised by new growth before. Amid the dark cold, what was lost to winter grabbed a wholesome jump start. It's still kind of dark out. Later, I'll grab a picture of that green goodness.
Yesterday, Fauci the flu guru bare-knuckled a somber prophecy: we could lose one hundred to two hundred thousand before this vampire virus gets laid to rest. Astounding. I want badly not to believe him. That was a conservative estimate too, assuming we all keep our distance.
Honestly, no one's got it as good as we do, a couple of retired folks out here alone in the country, rour schedule less than bare-minimum-ed. We worry about our kids, especially the little Oklahoma cowgirl about to be born.
Want to know how many options a person had to attend worship yesterday?--just as many as one has any ordinary Sabbath. Everybody's worshiping on line. Yesterday, we had church in the basement again, week #2; but someone had taken note of the bare naked look behind the preacher last Sunday and thusly put up some props that definitely improved what we might call "the set."
I'm guessing that setting change illustrates community-wide adoption of the demands experts and the Pres claim must be followed. We're learning to adjust to the isolation, sheltered in place. It's not fun.
In a half-hour or so, I'll be on the radio, talking about the Spanish Flu a century ago. I don't want to listen.
Time to quit. Out east, the morning sky is a bit carmelized beneath an azure bowl that promises good things. It's beautifully calm and clear. Look for yourself.
That'll do. This morning, I'm thankful for another dawn.
1 comment:
Out here on the west coast of British Columbia we are also glad the gloomy winter is fading. We do have lots of spring blooming but it has been very dark and rainy until now when we have been getting more sunshine. With this Covid19 we are thankful to have a house and yard to enjoy now that spring is here. We do have children & grandchildren in town and in a town 3/4 of an hour away but alas no hugging involved for now. Miss that. My husband enjoys gardening so he can keep busy with the yard work. I guess I should do something useful like spring cleaning but I'd rather read a book or use Marco Polo or FaceTime to chat with the family that I don't get to visit anymore. We also did church online yesterday and went for a social distancing walk. What a weird world we live in right now. Thankful to know & believe God is still in control and that He loves us and that this experience He will use to grow us closer to Him.
Post a Comment