Early Morning Recharge

The dogs stir at the first hint of daylight. I rise with them, grumbling about lack of sleep, until the sun emerges full and bright – something we haven’t seen in awhile.

“I used to be a morning person,” I say out loud. I’m am feeling the unrest of being shut in.

Ric emerges just after 7:00 am and I’m tell him I’m thinking about taking the camera out.

I drive to the centre of town, where the main street bridge crosses the river. Immediately, I spot an unfamiliar shape at the water’s edge.

Back at home, I research and find this is a Yellow Legs, although not sure whether is a Lesser or Greater. Apparently, they migrate through here.

Further down the river a pair of Mallards hover over their newborns. The shadow of an eagle passing overhead sends the family scurrying for cover.

The air is still wintry cold, but my heart is warmed by the beauty of the day. At the end of the outing, I will have encountered many different species of birds, heralding the start of warmer days. With over 400 photos to process, I am bursting with renewed energy.

Thank goodness, I didn’t just go back to bed.

Ordering Thai

Actually, the dogs get out to circle the neighbourhood every day. Ric does the walking. He does the grocery shopping, picks up meds, and deals with all other outside matters. I stay home, guarding my high risk.

We do try to maintain some normalcy by ordering out once a week. In our small town the choices are: Chinese, diner food, or pub fare. My favourite, Thai, is only available in the city a half hour away.

“Let’s order Thai and drive in and pick it up.”

I feel like a kid playing hooky. Our closest city is a tourist destination, typically bustling with people. Not this day though. Police patrol to make sure people are obeying physical distancing laws. It’s as if we’re on the set of sci-fi film.

We order two days worth of food. Small things make a big difference in these days of isolation.

Stay safe all.

The Numbers Don’t Tell All

“We only test the front line workers.”

This from Public Health. My daughter has been sick for days with cough. Via video chat, her family doctor says she likely has COVID-19. She prescribed inhalers and cough medicine. It didn’t really help. So she called the doctor again.

“I can’t see you in my office if it’s COVID,” the doc told her, so she called Public Health.

I understand saving resources for frontline workers, but Amanda is a single mom of an eight-year-old and needs help. If it is COVID, I can’t risk being exposed, and her sister has two kids, one of which has asthma. My son said he’d go, but his wife has a sister with MD who they help out regularly.

This is painful.

A nurse friend told her to go to ER. There they did an x-ray and sent her away, saying it’s possible she has the virus, but more likely just Bronchitis.

Her doctor called two days later to say she has infection in her lungs. She’s now on antibiotics. Too early yet to know if it’s working. The ER doc called again to check up on her. She tried to sound hopeful.

Amanda is tough. I have no doubt she will pull through. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. This disease is terrifying.

How many others are there like her – sick, but untested?

Her nurse friend says many. They see it everyday.

The numbers we see on the news don’t tell the whole story. Stay home, and stay safe.

Feathered Elegance

Rumours of the Tundra Swans in our neighbourhood lure us out. They migrate through here in early spring and linger for a week or two. We head to the drive along the river where the Common Mergansers are currently doing their mating dances.

Caught this female in the midst of the ritual. Love the hairdo.

Further downstream, we spotted a newcomer to town: Hooded Merganser.

Such a beautiful bird.

The swans were nowhere in sight, so we decided to drive to a nearby town. On the way, I spotted a few large white birds on a local pond:

Elegance with feathers.

( For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: elegance.)

Sculpting

The best openings are the one’s we carve for ourselves.

We spent New Year’s Eve reminiscing about eighteen years of togetherness. Stayed up past midnight, and talked about our future. Hope coloured our words.

Sculpting has been on my mind – not literally, but in the sense of chipping away at the outer facade to invite emergence.

Ric has shed fifty pounds of excess weight, and I am now joining him in that quest. We are entering this new decade with renewed vigour. There is much we still yearn to sample.

I’m lining up my tools, examining the material before me: changes lie ahead. Bit by bit, I will ply my craft, shed the excess, intuit the contours of this life I’m co-creating.

Emergence takes time, commitment, and a willingness to be open.

(Image taken from The Grand Trunk trestle. This town we have settled in stirs my impulse towards the creative. So grateful to be here. Hope it inspires you as much as it did me. I will be back Monday with a new weekly challenge.)

Wintry Rebellion

Tracks on ice remind me that even in the depth of winter there is movement. I am conflicted by the onset of cold: resigned to spending more time indoors, and already feeling the restlessness set in.

Art projects line up, encouraged by the many related gifts I received for Christmas. Writing calls to me too – so many unfinished works vying for space.

Perhaps it is the confinement itself that I fear, having known what it is to be truly homebound, and never wishing to relive the experience. I have come to love the outdoors; have embraced nature as my sanctuary. Can I tolerate the separation?

Ice crusts, encloses,
yet passion flows – fire carves
path – driven to thrive.

( Happy New Year all! Image from personal collection.)