Spring’s ancient rhythms soothe us in turbulent times
AS ALL the world awakens in March, animals emerge from hibernation and trees burst into bloom, we humans have been doing the opposite – retreating back into our homes while Covid-19 runs rampant.
I am out of the office, cinema and pub, and have not yet had to slap on the hand sanitiser and pummel my way down the loo-roll aisle of Sainsbury’s. Instead, for days now, I have been sitting out the pandemic at home.
Call it an enforced hibernation, if you will – or a seasonal reverse ferret. I have cancelled all face-to-face interviews and holed up at my desk, temporarily shrinking my world down to my immediate neighbourhood.
For now, I am rather enjoying this enforced spell indoors, though I am sure in time the days will begin to drag. No more early morning dashes to the train station; instead, I am luxuriously sipping the first cup of tea in bed.
Certainly, it has given me time to monitor my local patch for signs of spring. I am watching a crow busily build a new nest in an ash tree at the end of my garden, while the frogs are getting up to all manner of unmentionables in the pond.
Each morning this week before sitting down to write up the reports of the latest twist of the apocalypse unfolding before us, I have taken a stroll through my local wood, straining my ear to catch the tune of a chiffchaff. No luck yet. Though, by the sounds of it, I will have plenty of time before normality resumes. The weather, too, has been gratifyingly calm. An anchor during these turbulent times.
The days are longer and lighter with more sunshine forecast for the week ahead – spring is now upon us. However badly coronavirus will seize us in its grip over the coming weeks, the tree buds will still open and bulbs burst forth from the earth. There is hope in these ancient rhythms of a world that keeps turning.