I read an article the other day in which the author claimed
that we’d all “hit the wall” of the pandemic. You know, like marathon runners often
do, just shy of the finish line. Some of the commentors dragged her for her
sloppy use of metaphor and others pointed out some fallacies in her analogy. But,
after reading social media posts from friends and family, I’m going to go out
on a limb and say I think she was right. Or at the very least, made a credible
We have hit a wall. No hyperbole. Not even a little bit.
|even Gus is done with winter|
The difference being in a marathon, be it 26.2 or the unimaginable
50 or 100 miles of an ultra, you at least know there IS a finish line. And,
you’ve signed on and prepared for the event. Through rigorous training you know
your own capabilities, you have a support team in place. And, there is some
sort of reward waiting at that finish line.
I can’t imagine trying to run a marathon without any
preparation. Yet, that is how we are facing COVID-19.
No one I know expected a global pandemic. Although,
after reading Robin Cook’s Outbreak (published in 1987) I paid attention
each and every time some strange new illness popped up in the news. I wondered what would happen if fiction ever became reality. We heard tragic
reports as the virus made its way around the globe and that first US death February
6, 2020 drove it all home.
I won’t recap the year of shut-downs and cancellations,
isolation and fear…I’m sure you can account for all of those yourself. It’s completely understandable that we’re weary and worn and out of
sorts, and few have offered any truly viable solutions.
February is hard anyway. (my very personal musing can be found HERE) It’s cold and dark…and despite the
hoopla surrounding Punxsutawney Phil’s predictions, (I’d really like to know
WHO decided that a groundhog has prognostication powers) Spring always seems
too far away.
At least it is pretty...
This year, we’ve had more snow in the 14 days of February
than all of last winter. (not saying much, last winter was pretty much a bust) But,
I’ve measured nearly 2 feet in our yard over the past two weeks. And, that’s
not counting the freezing rain/sleet. Yesterday’s precipitation is frozen on
top of the last snow, making for a treacherous trek to the barn. The roadways
are apparently in bad shape, too. (I’m thinking it will be a long, long time
before I attempt going down our steep driveway) During a nine-hour period, the VA
state police responded to 366 traffic accidents across the state. And, there
are still thousands of people without power.
cleaning off the hoophouse
|another 6 inches!|
Between the pandemic, the weather and personal concerns…we
won’t even address politics and societal ills…the worries just keep on coming. Traumas
build on each other. And, after a while, they truly seem overwhelming.
Hit the wall? I’d say so.
That was quite literally the case of the Mbrk Post Office. Someone
drove their vehicle INTO the building, right through the brick wall. I don’t know if
this was weather-related. I do know that the Post Office employee was not injured,
although badly shakened. Mail delivery will be re-routed for at least three
weeks while they repair the building. So, one more for the record books.
(seriously, 2021 will far surpass 2020 when it comes to historic events—and not
in a good way)
I don’t have any jazzy “life-hacks” to help get through this
hard time. I can’t tell you how to jump to the front of the vaccination queue. I'm struggling to find my own motivation, so I cannot fault you for searching for yours. I
won’t tell you to “think positive” or “get in nature” or “eat some carbs”.
(seriously, that’s the best some advisors can do?) I wish I could make spring
come quicker. Or grant a little encouragement, not only to you…but, to myself.
But, if there is any comfort in the sameness of life on the hill,
then I do have something to offer.
The rhythm of the seasons continues…and yet there is always something
new to discover. Take a look around...
|arugula flower in the hoophouse|
|baby lettuce in the greenhouse|
|voicing their opinion about the snow |
(it's not good)
|crow behind the barn|
|feather in the morning light|
|kingfisher at the creek|
|cardinals in the birch tree|
|well, howdy, Otis!|
|redwing blackbird in the snow|
|Remy does not approve|
(your choice of subject)
|cardinal in the snow|
|snow on wisteria|
|teasels at the creek|
|like mother, like daughter|
|table scrap treats tempt the hens out of the house|
Lambing season is over and considered a success by any
standard. While the hens don’t appreciate the snow on their little bare chicken
feet, the pullets are beginning to lay, so the cycle of life continues. And,
the seed orders, small by comparison to the past, have arrived and are awaiting
warmer days. Farm life continues...
|look at those eyes!|
|lunch al fresco|
|how do I tell the cat the heatlamps are for LAMBS?|
|lots of lambs|
|warm lambs on a cold morning|
|just hangin' out with my sheeps|
So, there are reasons to hope.
I suppose we just need to hold onto those…particularly when
the days seem dark and dismal and the way seems long and hard.
Keep in mind…
storm runs out of rain.”
(time for my requisite sky photos)
|weather rolling in|
|sunrise at the barn|
|15 minutes later|
Thanks for stopping by.
|Otis says, "Have a great week!"|
Hope you’ll “visit” again soon.