It's Easter weekend as I write this, and I am sitting in the garden on Easter Saturday, having just done a 45 minute pilates session on the lawn.
It's quiet - no children playing in the garden yet. Someone was mowing the lawn a few minutes ago, and there is some traffic on the main road, but apart from that...birdsong. The crows are cawing at each other. The robin came and sang for a bit on the fence. Dunnocks were twittering in the pear tree as the blossom drifted down in a light breeze. Mummy blackbird landed on the fence about two feet away from me, but decided not to risk it. Blue tits are playing in the apple tree and the pigeon nesting in next door's holly tree came down for a quick strut. The local thrush is singing from some high point - 'rapido', '1,2,3' and 'brie, brie' he seems to sing. There's the lazy buzz of bees in the forget-me-nots underlying the birdsong.
It's already warm, and feels like a holiday. Yet this is not the 'staycation' I would wish for.
I have this strange sense of not doing enough. It doesn't seem right that I'm helping by sitting on my backside at home, doing nothing. Well, I say nothing - I'm knitting, (eleven coronasocks completed) cooking, gardening... There's a strange disparity - a world of difference - between me, staying at home, and the key workers who are going out to work every day, putting themselves at risk to keep things as normal as can be or while looking after the sick and dying.
I hope and pray that, this Easter, you'd be able to find resurrection hope in the middle of this awful time. And that you would stay safe and well until we come out of this on the other side...
I know how you are feeling. In my garden the corona virus seems unreal. All is peace and quiet while a few miles away people battle for lives, their own and those of others. Stay safe x
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