As we ease out of our mandated house prison cells, simple acts such as walking, biking, driving, or simply exhaling are exhilarating. While we yet are bound by social distancing I see more emphasis on social. It’s evident that many are ready to come out of our shells and seek the viewing pleasures of bodies on the streets or on the beach.
I value more my time on the beach. Alone – watching the waves sing melodies unhampered by the COV19 drama. The sky often melts into the ocean and the only other echos are those of seagulls playing in the sun. As the sun rises over the Atlantic ocean she heralds a new day of calm and peaceful tranquility. She knows we are wary. She knows we are tired of the darkness. She is sending her trusted Summer son to give us relief from the horrid tales of the pandemic.
Yesterday was the first day of 80 degrees plus weather and the nomads were out in droves – many in shorts, others, in bikinis, and a few wearing light spring wear as precautions for Indian Summer blues. The tribe’s mood was jovial; there was laughter, smiles, and bright eyes everywhere. Its as if humanity was issuing a silent war victory, “we survived COV19”. Yet Memorial Day has not come; we set aside this time to remember all of our fallen heroes in the wars that have gone before. This time the battle was in the air surrounding our very existence; to beat it we had to hide in our “shelter in place” cocoons.
Now the beautiful butterflies are spreading their wings – flying – ready for a brand new lift above the stale airs of COV19.