I know I’m not alone in believing that this season of rebirth holds special significance this year. As I reflect back on the past year or so, it’s difficult to believe where we were 12 or 14 months ago – and how far we’ve come since that frightening and dark time.
Do you remember the isolation of sheltering at home as a virus ran amok throughout the world? How the act of going to the grocery store required steeling oneself to encounter other people and locate standard household items which seemingly were instantly unavailable, all while potentially being exposed to a disease for which there was limited knowledge or treatment? How about the stress involved with pumping gas into your car’s tank (at much less frequent intervals than ever before) because you forgot your disposable gloves, or navigating your way up and down aisles which suddenly had designated directions of travel?
As the pandemic ravaged the globe, many of us were fortunate enough to have a safe, familiar place to call home. We had time available to take on long delayed, or previously unimagined, projects, often funding these improvements with money from the government which appeared in bank accounts more accustomed to paying the IRS than being on the receiving end of funds.
My garden last year was more closely observed than ever before as I sought proof of life and beauty close to home as the world suddenly became off limits. No trips would be taken and hours were spent canceling reservations for flights, activities and accommodations. I fought the Japanese beetles on my lilies only to see my lupines lost in a battle with aphids. I nearly cried, but consoled myself with a back deck lush with plants and flowers which had quickly become my office/dining room/yogastudio/napspace.
But, now? A year later many of us are starting to emerge from the places where we’ve sought shelter, peeking out and once again exposing our faces to the sun in a way that causes me to think of spring flowers emerging from their winter nap.
The first weekend of new and more relaxed mask wearing recommendations by the CDC, I spent some time with friends in Woodstock. Walking through town observing the sidewalks teeming with unmasked people, I was struck by how normal everything looked. It felt like the pandemic was over.
But, is it? Do you feel ready to resume the life you had B.C.?*
The percentage of the U.S. population completely vaccinated is presently in the low 40% range. Herd immunity to the ever mutating virus may never be achieved, even with the generous incentives being offered in exchange for receiving vaccine doses and the prospect of limited access to events and activities for those not vaccinated. How does one decide how to conduct themselves moving forward? Have we arrived at a time when it is safe to blithely take off our masks and carry on with living the existence we had pre-pandemic?
While it felt fantastic to roll into Lowe’s sans mask, I’m not sure that I’d be comfortable indoors maskless in a smaller space or for a longer duration. I’d prefer to err on the side of caution until more progress is made in terms of immunity – both globally and domestically. Particularly, with young people. Just like so many others, I’ve avoided catching even cold and I know my collection of masks played a big role in my good health. Think I’ll keep mine handy.
Mask wearing aside, though, I don’t know that I’m interested in returning to the jam packed calendar I juggled maintained before the pandemic. It was very enjoyable, but it also was a lot of not being home, of eating and drinking out and generally feeling hyper-scheduled. After months of eliminating extraneous stuff, organizing and reconfiguring, my home as never felt as much as home as it does now – and, if you’ve seen the current state of disarray that is my kitchen, that’s saying a lot. Fortunately, however, I don’t mind being here for now.
My back deck is calling and Summer 2021 is coming up quick. Let’s make it a safe one.
*Before Covid
