Today is Saturday, right? I had to check. I’ve gotten used to getting up and then “going to work” by wandering into my studio and powering up my computer and thus have become victim to calendar blindness. Not that I ever kept track of that well, to be honest.
This last week has not been universally productive for me due to a combo of anxiety, worry, and sinus headaches. Still, here it is Saturday morning and we got out for our walk by 7 am.
We went down to Lake Ella because I was feeling lazy (sorry, Keely!). Traffic was busier than I expected for a Saturday morning at 7 am, but what do I know. *checks calendar again to make sure it’s not Thursday or something equally terrible*
The snocone shop manager has already taken down the menus were nailed to the posts outside its front door, and I assume it has closed up completely for the duration. Barb’s Brittles and Avant Guarde clothing both now have signs saying they, too, are closed for the duration. Black Dog has been closed for over a week at this point. Still no new signage at the Chandler House, so that remains a mystery, but no doubt there will be no businesses opening for now, or any time soon.
After the rush to try and get people to stay home it seems things have slowed and we are now dialing down bit by bit — a store here, a restaurant there. Will they reopen? No one knows. Certainly not the millions (!!!) who have filed for unemployment.
(It has been a week since I left the house for anything other than these dog walks. Keely takes my presence in stride, and it seems I have not disturbed her daily routine at all. I considered running back out to go to Publix (ironically, I am low on toilet paper!) but instead opted for delivery. We’ll see if anything I ordered is in stock!)
It was less humid but foggier than yesterday, and I don’t understand the science of that but it’s Florida so there will always be a “water hanging in the air” factor there somewhere. And, while traffic was surprisingly steady, there were fewer people walking around the park than usual are by that time.
Quiet and calm.
One thing I’ve learned, through the various traumas and crises of my life, is that the world around me is always full of spaces that are quiet and calm no matter how sharp the shards of my life. When Mother was sick, I walked a lot “for exercise” but mostly to get out of a house filled with the anxious miasma of slow death. Strangely, walking Keely, it’s like nothing has changed after all these years. Their deaths? My various moves and poverty and unhappy marriage? 9/11? School shootings? COVID19? It all continues apace while I walk under the canopy of trees that don’t know better.
I am unhappy with a lot of things, some unchanging and some changing hourly, but Keely is a steady companion who just wants to sniff things and pee on other things while I try to spy scenery that might be photogenic. She sometimes looks over at me as if checking to see if I am still there, or maybe she’s surprised to see me, I’m not sure. But then she picks up her pace and prances on, comforted by the reminder that I will always follow.