It was a much calmer morning, with no harsh winds or dangerous static making the air feel charged. There were a few large branches down on and off the sidewalks around Lake Ella, but nothing more than that.
It was also a bit cooler, 66°F and not humid, which makes Keely all kinds of perky. I gave her a bit of lead and she wandered around aimlessly — or, perhaps, tracking a phantom scent to nowhere — while I watched the sky start to lighten above us.
Like everyone, I spend some time every day imagining what it will be like to get back to “normal”, and then wondering if we ever will. Repercussions are not the same as the triggering events, but in this case they are blending together seamlessly and we stumble forward trying to hold mud in our hands while its still raining. Here is our new normal, then.
It has gotten to the point where if I do not wear my mask out, as I forgot on last night’s walk, that it feels weird and exposed. Midtown Caboose was hoping, oddly, with more cars in the parking lot than normal. Mostly there for pick up and delivery but it was funny how even so, I gave the cars wide berth due to not having my mask on. The thing is, my mask is not rated for protecting ME from the virus; it’s for me to protect others in case I am a carrier, and to reduce pollen intake. Still, the instinct is there to just pull away.
So no, I don’t think “normal” will be back any time soon.
In other news, the gazebo was lit up like a landing strip again, so I took a photo to show just how damn bright it is.
It is the big shiny cluster of white lights in the middle of the photo. It looks very atmospheric in a picture, I’ll admit, but I find the brightness in person off-putting. Which, of course, was the whole damn point.
For a social species we do a lot to shove each other away.