Bittersweet


Details in the high grass.

Day Seven.

I work from home a lot. If I’m reading tweets and comments in Facebook correctly a lot of people are already on the path from craziness to lunacy. They don’t like being home. They are finding out a lot about themselves, their spouses, their children and their pets. Mostly they don’t like each other. Because of busy lifestyles they rarely spent a lot of time together.

There are a lot of unintended outcomes for what people are learning. One, that scares the hell out of a lot of people, is the potential for abuse. There are various  resources and places that someone in fear can turn to. I just don’t know if they are available right now in the season of the witch. That’s song, by the way.

The second might make you chuckle. Boredom leads to sex. Arguing leads to makeup sex. Look into the not too distant future. Let’s say, look nine months into the future. You get it. Quarantine babies. Lots of them. Quarantine Babies. What a great name for a band.

Let’s take this in a more positive direction.

We are getting to know each other a little better. In spite of being told that groups of ten are too many people, and that we must stand at least six feet apart, we are getting to know each other a little better. The earth is starting to heal. For instance, in Venice the canals are clear. The trash is gone. In Beijing, on of the most smoggy cities on the planet, the air is starting to clear.  Even in New Orleans, Bourbon Street is clean and actually smells pretty good.

Eventually, I’ll get bored. I’ll start photographing in places like The Quarter and around our neighborhood. This is the kind of work I can’t let pass me by.

Going grocery shopping has gotten amusing.

I ordered some N95 masks. Healthy people do not really need them, but everybody thinks they do. I just joined the crowd. Joining crowds is pretty rare for me. We also have rubber gloves. Mechanics gloves. They are a little thicker than surgical gloves. The masks are dark gray. The gloves are black. All I need are dark sunglasses and I can go into a grocery store and demand some guy’s 48 rolls of toilet paper. Or, his chicken. Or, eggs.

Anyway.

The picture. I don’t care many times we are told to stay inside, the dogs don’t understand that. They need walks. The need fresh air. They need sunshine. For that matter, so do I. So does everybody. I see no problem walking around as long as I don’t come in close contact with anybody else.

We, the dogs and I, came upon this scene. It didn’t look like much until I framed this composition in my mind’s eye.  It became about spring. Rebirth. Restoration. And, maybe about the future. Our future.

Be safe. Take care of each other. Enjoy every sandwich.

 

12 Comments

  1. I read somewhere that they are going to call these babies “coronials” :-). Oh, and I am not intereting the stay inside to be so much not to get out, but to stay away from other people and situations that might allow you to contact and acquire / or spread the virus. I walk 2 miles a day and here in FL it is mostly sunny. On my walk today I was surprised at how many other walkers there were on my route – where I rarely see anyone. So there’s something :-). Maybe in addition to give the earth a rest, we we see an uptick in some physical health?

    Stay well, Ray and these days my standard sign off is: “wash your hands.” 🙂

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    1. There was a long piece about just that in the sports pages of The NYT. It seems a lot of people who spent time in gyms are doing their workouts old school. They are out and about. Around here local government official are pretty much saying stay inside. They had to because the minute they announced the six foot rule, nobody listened. Instead they went out to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day on Magazine and Bourbon Streets. Now, the bars are closed and restaurants are only serving take out. That ain’t so bad. We had Commander’s Palace food at home. I say, enjoy every sandwich.

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  2. I’ve been away from social media for two weeks, in a news-only period. I’m just now catching up on Storyteller posts. I should’ve been reading you all along. This is inspiring. Coincidentally, I have a “date” with my stepmom in a dog park today, staying 6 feet apart, of course.

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