The Coronaviary

Dear virtual friends in social media and email,

The outdoors is calling my name … I don’t want to work on the overflowing inbox.

We’re having the most exquisite spring you could ever design for our corner of the world. It’s the one time of the year that we are granted a last reprieve before the summer hits us like the opening of a hot oven. The sky is bluer, the leaves are greener, the wild flowers are abundant, the gardens perky and vibrant … I’m not scrolling through all the pictures on Instagram.

The neighborhood is embracing the virus slow-down with gusto. You can hear kids’ voices across the fences playing outdoors, whole families going for walks on a weekday other than the Thursday of Thanksgiving, barbecue smells waft through the air as everyone takes more time to cook at home. We stop, we chat, we reconnect. It’s soul-filling … maybe I can skip that Zoom call.

I want to be out there soaking it in. I want to bottle it up. I want to store up these memories for that day a few short weeks from now when the heat and humidity swallows us up again until October … the Facebook tags to post, copy, share can wait til then.

The real connections in the spaces around me are filling me up. I’m going for more walks, leaving my phone at home more, writing with pen and paper, putting the online world on pause more frequently ... that text message and WhatsApp can wait a little longer.

The whole world is taking time-out, I don’t want to miss it. When will we ever see a planet-wide pause like this again? It’s a global “stop and smell the roses” moment. It’s tugging at my soul … the emails launching chains of more emails feel laden with extra work. I just can’t do them now.

Don’t think I’m ignoring you, or don’t appreciate your gestures … I’m just a bit slower to react, I may be out playing or dancing elsewhere right now.