…shielding my eyes from the brightness of the window, from the day I am not yet awake enough to meet.Cathy Marie Buchanan, The Day the Falls Stood Still
Well, that’s just life during a global pandemic, is it not? It’s hard enough at the best of times to great each day with unbridled enthusiasm (especially if you happen to be resolutely NOT a morning person, like me…) let alone when we are living through a once-in-a-lifetime worldwide crisis that makes each day seem to bleed into the next.
How are we supposed to meet the day when we aren’t even quite sure what to call it? Monday? Friday? Wedursday? What month are we even in?
I would apologize again for missing a post just after finally committing to a schedule I thought would work for me but, well, what’s the point? Who even knows what year it is anymore.
Don’t worry, though, this post isn’t going to just be all doom and gloom. I promise.
Because lately, there is something encouraging me to get out of bed in the morning. To meet the day with a smile and that is simply this: Spring.
In years past I would have said that my favourite season was Fall. The crisp autumn air spiced with the smell of burning wood. A kaleidoscope of colours accompanying every walk in weather that finally no longer leaves me panting or fighting off a headache (I don’t do well in humidity). Ah, Fall.
Well, OK, it may still be my favourite season. But this year, this year Spring is a strong contender for the top spot.
Why the change of heart? Simple. Hope.
I know it isn’t a new concept to see, smell, hear or feel hope in springtime. The extraordinarily simple yet magical bloom of flowers whose seeds snuggled safely underground throughout the most extreme weather, waiting to break free when their blanket of snow had subsided. The fresh and clean smell of rain – an ever present companion to the return of the sun’s warmth. Hearing the baby birds calling out for food or with the sheer excitement of being alive.
And the feeling, oh the feeling of the land casting off the darkness and bone-chilling cold of winter and entering a season of warmth, growth and renewal. It really defies even the grumpiest of curmudgeons not to feel rejuvenated and full of hope.
To all of these well-known descriptions of the bright future Spring alludes to, we can add this year the possibility of soon being vaccinated against the scourge that stole last Spring’s light: Covid-19.
I know there are many different opinions about the vaccine. Especially regarding different versions of the vaccine which may or may not carry some worrying risks with them. However, regardless of your opinion (and you’re entitled to it, as long as you don’t try to foist it on anyone else), you have to admit that the possibility of this disease becoming endemic like the regular flu rather than raging on in its current deadly pandemic form is exciting. The end of all of this confinement, fear and uncertainty feels so close we can actually taste the freedom. And it is EXHILERATING.
We are almost there, my friends. We only need to hold out a little bit longer.
Just imagine it for a second. A summer spent camping, swimming, hiking, enjoying a cool drink and a long chat with friends. A thanksgiving with nary a zoom call in sight. Christmas shopping in ACTUAL stores, no need to wait anxiously for that delayed Amazon package.
It’s coming, the life we have had to put on hold this past year to save as many lives as possible, it is within reach.
So enjoy this Spring fully and completely. Get out for some long walks, open your windows, read a book outside on the deck, take the kids or pets (if you have them) outside to soak up some sun – but don’t forget the sunscreen! Just keep up this physical distancing for a little while longer. We can do this.
To paraphrase Gandalf, breathe the (almost) free air my friend. The end is in sight.
As for me? Perhaps I won’t shield my eyes from the morning light anymore. Perhaps it’s time I learnt to meet the morning with a smile again. Because this hope I feel is worth smiling about and every morning brings me one step closer to the day when my gloriously normal life can resume.
I’d get up before the sun to meet that day: awake and alive to all the extraordinary possibilities of life.
We’re almost there, dear reader. And, remember, life is beautiful.