End of lockdown reflection
As I start to write, a woodpecker—yellow, black and red—is performing an Olympic gymnastic routine on the bars of the bird feeder to reach the seed-ball suspended from the top of the cone.
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Now hanging upside seedball, s/he has no concern for modesty as its beautiful underbelly is exposed. It is making several trips–I guess because hanging upside down is not its accustomed attachment technique and it gets weary.
It’s just one of the shows in town, during this period of lockdown, that has required us to stay put for the last TWO months.
The backdrop to this open air theatre–maybe the only form of theatre to survive this pandemic–is the scenery. Lots of rain followed by lots of sun and the result is an explosion of green growth. Spring has been in her pomp this year–lucky for us!
Last night, after a day of heavy rain, I heaved a soaking wicker chair indoors to dry it out. An hour later a “walk” (I looked it up!) of confused snails dropped off their unsought means of transport, enacting a show of slow formation dancing that could have done with more rehearsal. Their necks were at full stretch as they abandoned the routine and headed across the tiles for the front door. One by one, I helped them to a place of greater safety–a circle of greenery in the courtyard.
Our two senior cats, Beau and Ben, are being particularly present through all this. Perhaps astonished to see so much of us at a time of the year when normally we might be away from home for a stretch.
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Ben slept an hour in my lap yesterday afternoon, forcing me to watch an episode of Better Call Saul on Netlix—I wasn’t able to move, you understand.
He and Beau have been seen to punctuate their progress out of window or door with a skip or two–just for la joie de vivre it seems. (The little sack of catnip may have helped put a spring in their paws.)
I’ve had some time to feast on more than food during lockdown. Music from another era, for example.
The Grateful Dead hove into view on Youtube a couple of days ago.
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I put the earphones on–the Dead are not to everyone’s taste–and was reminded of the genius of Jerry Garcia.
Seeing him and his hair, I make a link with the present. There are some neighbours I don’t recognise on my walks until–click, click, click–it dawns on me who they are! No-one’s been chez le coiffeur for weeks–me included!
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RIP and merci, Jerry.
