With large sections of society in ‘social-isolation’, one Lichfield resident lifts the lid on her thoughts in the latest of a series of diary posts on the coronavirus outbreak.
I thought the sky was bluer than BC – before coronavirus – and apparently, it is.
The usual haze of pollution from cars and planes has cleared, at least for a while. So if there’s to be any cure for the other great crisis, the climate – we can’t take the same road back.
And as the racket people make subsides and we get quieter, other beings sing a sweeter song.
The birds, always busy in spring, seem even chirpier than usual. A friend who fancies himself as a David Attenborough-type twitcher, tells me it’s a wonderful time to hear the dawn chorus.
Think I’ll take his word for that. But I do need to get out more.
The promise made to my sons in the middle of March – to keep to the house and garden – is weighing more heavily now. Especially as Boris says we’re ‘past the peak’ and only one thing puts me officially at risk…the age factor.
An inmate in a nice prison, with decent conditions, can get accustomed to a limited life. It’s almost too safe to stay inside for too long.
But being invisible has its advantages. My hair’s on the wild side, but there’s no one to notice – and most of my wardrobe just hangs in there.
I live in a very small, slobby range of clothes that fashionistas call lounge, leisure or sports wear. Things like hoodies and tracksuit trousers in soft materials – comfort blankets.
I do dress for dinner some evenings, into fresh pyjamas.
But I’m a rambler, not a runner. So one day later in May, I’ll put on my favourite jeans, if they still fit, and go for a walk in the park or around Stowe Pool, only minutes away.
The clearer air will still carry a threat, so if I encounter any form of human life, I’ll pull a scarf over my nose and mouth.
Because there’s no power on the planet that will make me wear a mask.
Tessa also writes on www.pensionista.co.uk – an adventurous take on much later life.
