Spring and nature, unaware of our angst, have lessons
How the world has changed in the past 30 days! A month ago we were talking about the possibility of an early spring. Now the world is in an international paradigm shift as a virus inspires fear and panic across continents.
Old issues of conflict have disappeared, replaced by searches for medical supplies. A new vocabulary has entered our lexicon. “Social distancing” is the oxymoron of the day. How have Americans responded? Again, it all depends on one’s age and life experiences. Businesses, schools and churches have closed. Traditional events are postponed. Neighbors are avoiding neighbors, and fear rules the day. It seems as if everyone knows someone who is ill or hospitalized, and the concern continues to grow.
Yet it is spring, and nature, as usual, is blithely unaware of our angst. Tree pollen blows across the fields in yellow clouds. Birds are occupied with their “bird business,” constructing nests in birdhouses, trees and bushes. My dog Harry flushed his first rabbit of the year, and in the process trampled the tulips. My radish seeds planted two weeks ago are up and growing, as is the spinach with its tiny leaves. Peas are stretching up to find purchase on the netting, while daffodils are a riot of yellow and white in yards across the Peninsula.
When paradigms shift, the life we thought we knew becomes a distant memory. If you’ve ever lived through a natural disaster such as a hurricane, you know that feeling. Suddenly the rules are all different; schedules are tossed out and reconstructed again. A trip to the grocery is a huge event. Fortunately, humans can adapt, and in this effort, good things can happen. I’ve seen a recent spurt of kindness and humanity. In our little neighborhood, Diana relieved her fears by baking and delivering cake. Yesterday, Lois dropped tomatoes by my garage door. Although my little church has closed, members stay connected through emails, calls and prayer chains, as our beloved minister struggles in the hospital. Last night I got phone calls from faraway friends in New Orleans and Charlotte, reconnecting and remembering our shared past. All of the activities which were deemed so important, which absorbed so much time, energy and money, are gone.
Pro sports, media and entertainment figures are now seen as largely irrelevant to the struggle for life in our communities. Our new national heroes are the dedicated medical personnel on the front lines.
Sometimes it takes a tragedy on a grand scale for us to refocus our priorities; such is the impact of this pandemic. The folks in our community who make our lives run smoothly have gained long overdue respect. Classroom teachers, once routinely critiqued and criticized around town, are now sought out by parents who are struggling with the concept of homeschooling their children for the next several months. Delivery drivers, grocery store employees, truckers and pharmacists are all being appreciated as never before. Strangers are helping strangers; kindness for small acts is being shown.
And meantime it is spring, and Mother Nature is putting on quite a show. Thoreau said long ago, from his perch near
Walden Pond, “Blessed are they who never read a newspaper, for they shall see Nature, and through her, God.” As the weather warms, more and more folks are leaving the confines of their homes and going for walks. Others are taking longer drives to see the dogwoods blooming along the Colonial Parkway, or venture to a large park. Flowers have emerged in every yard, and the trees are turning green again.
Nature reminds us that Easter is coming, and with it the promise of the Resurrection. By focusing on faith, hope and charity, you will find that the fear melts away. Life, even in a pandemic, is all about choices. Choose hope.
Susan Miller is a retired high school English teacher. Originally from Florida, she now lives in Williamsburg. She can be reached at susanmiller37@cox.net.