View across the woods and fields to the Cairngorms, April 6 |
I went shopping today. I never thought I would start a piece
of writing with those words. But the act of shopping now seems significant,
fraught with danger, verging on reckless. It was the first time I’d been into
town for a week, the first time I’d spoken face to face with anyone, shared
space with them. Keeping away from others feels unnatural, difficult. Cross the
road to avoid passing someone on the pavement. Reverse down aisles in the supermarket.
Other people are dangerous. I am dangerous. None of us know if we carry the
invisible threat.
Into the third week of lockdown now, with no end in sight.
The reality of this open-ended state has become familiar. I feel detached,
disorientated. The world has changed so fast, so drastically. Yet here at home
it is much the same. Living out in the countryside I don’t see empty streets,
closed shops, speeding ambulances. I see woods and fields, birds and animals,
as usual. But it’s not usual. The Cairngorms glow white in the late sun. Out of
reach now. I forget the strangeness as I walk in the trees looking for the first
spring flowers, listen to the spirit soaring song of a thrush, catch a glimpse
of a deer, then out into the fields and the beautiful wild calls of curlew and
lapwing. A buzzard circles overhead. This world has not changed.
At home I sit at my desk, working. That hasn’t changed
either. But I feel slightly unreal, not sure if the world will suddenly change
again. The house feels solid, reassuring. Built of blocks of stone. They’re not
going anywhere. House, trees, fields, wildlife. Not much else feels
substantial.
Here, alone, cut-off, I am detached. Yet I’m also connected,
to my local community, to the wider country, to the whole world. This affects
everyone, everywhere. Whilst I exist in this strange limbo others are
suffering, working hard, desperately trying to adjust. My mind expands from this solitude across countries and continents. We are one people.
The people who keep society running are being acknowledged now.
This needs to last. The world has changed and when the world comes out of this
it needs to stay changed. Whenever that is.
Stay safe.
Well articulated. Been feeling much the same. Thanks for the post
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ReplyDeleteI share your feelings Chris, in a world that is becoming very detached from what is around itself.
ReplyDeleteI fear after this, the detachment will become detached greater and as a species, we'll become more insular.
Stay safe and keep writing, I enjoy reading your articles, along with a few others from TGO.
All the best, Mike (aka Peak Rambler)
Thanks Mike. I hope you are wrong about us becoming more insular.
DeleteHi Chris, what are your feelings about the return of visitors to the highlands? Not right now, obviously, but at some point in the future.
ReplyDeleteDo you sense conflict between those whose livelihoods depend on visitor numbers and those who are concerned about the continuing spread of the virus?
I hope that visitors will be welcomed by most people. Most of those whose livelihoods depend on tourism are concerned about the threat of spreading the virus.
DeleteWell said Chris. We're all frustrated. I'm holed up in a hotel abroad supposedly 'on trail', and I'm worried sick for my loved one who is a doctor on the front line who faces in hospital what she describes as "a tsunami of coronavirus" Stay safe everyone.
ReplyDeleteI hope your partner is ok Jay and you don't have to stay holed up for too long. Best wishes.
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