Thanks to daylight savings last week, getting out at 7 am still meant “before dawn” which was fine, it was cool and mild and I do like watching the dawn unfold.
Nothing seems out of place, for all the panic over covid19. Sidewalks were as empty as they ever are early on Saturday, and the roads just as busy — meaning, mostly not but with the parking lot at Publix filling up steadily. I suspect people think “social isolation” includes going to the grocery store because you never get close to or look anyone directly in the eyes when you are there. But let’s not talk about the keypad on the card machine at checkout…
The only real suggestion I saw of “not business as usual” is that Publix had a hastily printed sign tapped to the doors stating that it is closing a few hours early at 8 pm until further notice. This is not quite as earth shattering as Disney World shutting down for a few weeks, but is on the same spectrum of “unexpected in my lifetime.” Ahaha! Well, we shall see how this all goes.
Keely was anxious to get out and had her loop already planned, dragging me south bound on the 3rd Avenue loop. We bypassed Monroe St. to Duval since there was enough traffic to overpower my headphones (unacceptable!).
Saw lots of growth along the way, untamed areas and yards alike springing to life with shoots and small flowers.
Nothing ever really goes fallow in Florida without a lot of work; the challenge is to stop things from growing, not to get them to start. Which means that the main difference between winter and spring is not the sudden onslaught of greenery, since we’ve been covered in green the whole time, but the expansion of it. Vines putting out feelers and flowers popping up everywhere and grass shooting up over the curbs and edges. The greens are brighter in the new growth, light and ready to absorb the sunlight instead of fighting it off.
I would probably be more amenable to the beauty of it if it weren’t also for the miasma that is yellow pollen. It is unforgiving this time of year, blanketing everything and coating lungs like paint.
For Keely, though, the important thing is that this is burr season. Every square inch of non-paved ground has about 4,000 burrs ready for pickup, and her coarse fur is a prime burr conveyance. This means we stop every 10 yards or so for me, the official Burr Remover Tool, to pluck them off her legs and face. Even before I see them for myself, I know burr season has arrived because she starts shying away from grassy areas for fear of getting them stuck in her paws. I’ve stepped on plenty of burrs myself, I sympathize.
It will only get worse through April; I’m considering how to get her groomed with a shorter cut, given I do not have a car to get her to a groomers. We’ll see.
By the time we ended up back at the house the sun was up and I needed some tea. My stomach is still in arrears with food, unfortunately, so I tend to be hungry in the mornings which is unusual for me. My body has made it clear that breads and grains are verboten so yayyyyy, more yogurt. *side eyes the yogurt*
I doubt I’ll be productive today, but rather will embrace the whole quarantine mood and lounge about the house reading fanfic. Bliss!