The remote life is not so bad. Not as long as you have plenty of food, you’re not sick, none of your family are sick, your cats are healthy, and you’re able to work at home and maintain your income (alternatively, you could be retired like my husband in which case the remote life is a bit better than not-so-bad). It helps to be a homebody who doesn’t really care for traveling, to be someone who, for a long time, just wanted to stay home.
But I sense everyone else’s restlessness, the growing irritation with the shops all being closed, no restaurants or bars to hang out at, police breaking up parties, infringements on one’s individual right to move freely and congregate. What perplexes me is that, on the rare times when I do leave my neighborhood, I see a fair amount of free movement and congregating. It’s the congregating that scares me.
Some Florida beaches opened this weekend and two things happened: the beaches quickly became crowded with few if any face masks in sight, and a new hashtag was born. #FloridaMorons. My governor takes his orders from the president so Florida no doubt will go through much more heartache before (if) this is done.
I haven’t done much writing lately. I haven’t really felt like it. Who knew that spending eight hours a day on a computer working for my employer would effectively kill any desire to stay on the computer after hours and write? Honestly, I didn’t know until it happened.
People are writing, though, and if you’re one of them and you’re writing about the pandemic, then think about submitting to The Disappointed Housewife, a special place for offbeat literature. Call for submissions is here: https://thedisappointedhousewife.com/2020/04/17/call-for-pandemic-submissions/. Tell them Marie sent you.
The upside of not writing is I’ve been walking.
I see trees! They’re everywhere …
A couple of weeks ago we went walking at one of the few nature trails opened to the public. We were initially dismayed by the number of cars parked at the entrance but, to our relief, no congregating was going on. I saw no more than three people together at one time, and we all gave each other ample space to pass, even on the narrow trails. People smiled and said hello. Imagine that.
I hadn’t been to this trail in a long while so I got a little camera-happy.
It was exciting to see such variety of color. I love all the shades of green that a good nature trail provides, but some yellow, blue, and red is always welcome.
Although I still have a spider phobia (somewhat mitigated after thirty years in Florida), I am fascinated by the very tiny spiders that make these delicate hammock-like webs. My husband referred to this group of webs as the spider condominium.
Best of all for me was the dragonfly that graciously rested long enough for me to get this photo.
Nature can be accommodating when she wants to be. Especially when I’m willing to be patient.
I hope you enjoyed this walk through one of our favorite trails. I hope you are staying safe and well.