every day i record the new cases and deaths in the u.s. morbid perhaps, but one part of my documentation of these times. 2020 the year a pandemic raced around the world. and meanwhile spring arrived and the rains came, the sun broke through, and everything grew lush.
i’m up to my usual business of staying away from crowds and enjoying the company of birds, bunnies, and ground squirrels.
went for a lovely beach ramble on a lonely beach.
just driftwood and shorebirds. only a few homo sapiens.
lots of beach boulders.
someone made a pretty labyrinth. i saw the man who made it and thanked him. from a safe distance of course!
collected some beach treasure.
watched the clouds.
drove out to malibu for sunset the other day on empty freeways.
went walking by the arroyo.
everywhere there are signs of spring.
a bounty of things to be noticed.
including plenty from my front porch.
without the rush out of the house or the morning snarl of traffic i can eat a leisurely breakfast at the table. enjoy my coffee.
school is out until may 1. i’m working from home. figuring out how to communicate with parents and kids, dispense information, teach kids how to take charge of their own learning. and so on and so forth.
the cat posse is glad someone is here to let them in and out 50 times per day.
if i’m supposed to feel despondent and anxious about what’s to come, i don’t.
solitude makes me feel like anything is possible. also…
i love bees. and now i can spend a lot of time studying their behavior.
i welcome them into my garden.
everything is roaring to life with all of the rain.
i can’t remember a march when it rained this much.
a perfect combination of rain and sun.
from this mornings journal:
day 10 of social distancing. u.s. cases: 43,469 u.s. deaths: 545
just took pictures of bees on the blue echium. now am cloudspotting.
how happy i am to hear and feel the wind moving through the branches. stirring the leaves. rustiling sounds drifting down to me here on my chair where i sit on the patio in a pool of sun. the world up on my hill is marvelous and green. it rained all night and all the plants, except the poor cheri hibiscus, whose roots were ravaged by The Gopher last year, are strong and green. the plant kingdom is rippling with vitality.
massive cloud stacks above my head. brilliant white with grey underbellies. moving together and apart. i lean my head against the back of the chair and look straight up watching the drift. warm sun on skin. i love this world i am home to witness. it moves around me morning to night.
here are a few videos i watched for mask making directions.
i heard about john campbell’s daily coronavirus updates from one of you. really enjoy checking in with him daily.
kitty o’meara wrote a lovely poem
And the people stayed home.
And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still.
And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.
Some met their shadows.
And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.
Thank you for sharing all of the life bursting around you. Here in NY it isn’t happening just yet but I’m being hopeful. I love seeing all the green and the blue. Just beautiful. xo
Oh you marvelous lover of beauty, Mary Ann – and how perfectly you capture it!
kitty o’meara wrote this lovely poem:
And the people stayed home.
And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games,
and learned new ways of being, and were still.
And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.
Some met their shadows.
And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.
xoxoAT1
I love your cottage, love your garden. So beautiful, homey and comforting. Your posts are a soothing salve in these tense times. Thank you. XO
What would we do without the ocean? Just knowing it’s close by is a comfort, being there is joy. It IS rather odd to know that I am saving lives by living in my usual way. I wish you well with the kids, LA Unified and teaching. Teaching is always a challenge, although often intensely satisfying, but this adds a perplexing and sad layer. Take care, as we continue our separate yet parallel beach journeys.
Thank you for that lovely soothing post. It was like balm to my soul to read your words and see the photos of your walks. Yes, the world keeps spinning….
Thank you for your lovely post, MAM. I too am recording the daily case and death toll, both of the USA and here at home our Canadian numbers, lest history become a blur in my mind when I think of all this at some future point in time. My snowbirding in-laws came home early from Florida. We opened their house, filled it with groceries, but after 2 days they were lonely. We all bundled in our warmest winter clothes and had a tea party, them inside the sunroom with the screen door open, my husband and I several feet away on camp chairs in the backyard. These are surreal times for sure and the posts from your neck of the woods are a welcome balm.
i like your pandemic- style tea party. right on! i do admire and think quite a lot of your justin trudeau.
Thank you for this lovely posting. I have always loved your blog, but especially this morning.
why thank you, janice
What a beautiful and uplifting post. I love how we are all connected. It helps during these very difficult times. Thank you.
hello jane. separate but together and definitely connected. xo
That is truly beautiful, Mary Ann. Uplifting and comforting. Thank you.
Last night we were told by our PM (finally) that we must all stay at home, apart from essential workers. I’m happy with that. As you show us with your ever more beautiful photos, there’s a positive side to all of this.
It’s so quiet here, so peaceful. Thought I’d tell you that I’ve started weaving again, writing and reading and helping in the garden. I think we are going to have some gorgeous weather. Mustn’t be sad when there are primroses and the birds are nesting. Keep safe! No need to say Keep happy!
my tail always gives a hearty thump when i hear from you, dear chrissy. thank you.
Thank you for the lovely post. I think that labyrinth is one of the best things I’ve ever seen. I wish I had your composure, MAM. I am very scared right now. Had one of the worst panic attacks of my life last night. Still, I am living in the present more than I ever have before. XOXO
so sorry to hear of your panic attack sandra. that must be frightening. sending good tidings your way xo
Thank you Mary Ann love your posts. Kitties, beaches, drawings and plants are inspiring. Make me dream.
Thank you, Mary Ann, for sharing your views on life. Always very uplifting.
donna, hello. i was just listening to michael hoppe, martin tillman, tim wheater’s AFTERGLOW… MH always reminds me of you. xo
Lovely post, my dear. Thank you. The sunny photos lifted my heart. Dr. Campbell was very informative and clear and concise. He’s a good teacher. (Guess a good teacher would pick another good teacher…I digress.). The lines, ” i love this world i am home to witness. it moves around me morning to night.” is a wonderful description of how I am feeling but I had not strung that delicious feeling into words. To be totally honest, I am enjoying this forced time at home. I find all sorts of things to do and on my walks (more for mental health than exercise) I am noticing more than had been my habit. This slowing down of life has made me a much better observer. I am going to do my darnedest to hang onto this new observational skill once things return to ‘normal.’ It makes me feel like I am a tiny bit more like Mary Oliver, who saw so much and shared it so well.
Stay well.
mmmm the slowing down of life. yes indeed. and to think we are helping save lives by STAYING HOME. that’s a powerful concept and one i love hearing from good dr. campbell.
Yes it is true. Having been a medical worker bee for many years, I remember it well; I remember the terror of AIDS when we really did not understand how to care for all those people safely. However, “lucky” has nothing to do with it as I also know that teachers are on the front lines in ways that are unsung and that are not heroicized and not a single one of us can comprehend the difficulties of that role who has not walked in those shoes. We are asking teachers to essentially be the parents to the nations children as well as to be responsible for teaching them everything from the necessary knowledge of reading and writing but also socialization and manners and ethics and how to be human beings…all this for a mere pittance and exhausting responsibility and hours…No overtime, not enough materials to teach, not enough support staff, no rotation on and off shifts – just never ending grinding labor that consumes hours at home and at school and that never gets the recognition it deserves. We all take our turns. Right now it just happens to be that medical staff is on the front lines in a very vivid way.
We are all grateful for those that are tending to those of us who fall to this viral pandemic but at the same time medical staff are no better than teachers, firefighters, police officers, social workers, and responsible mothers and fathers – to just call out a few of the people who work their butts off to make this world a better and safer place.
Thank you Teacher. The entire post was wonderful. An A++.
Dear Sister: oh oh oh that labyrinth is so lovely. and then the poem. wow. I had not heard it. it’s wonderful. as is your journal entry.
Just beautiful, Mary Ann. Ah, solitude & quiet. I’d forgotten. Wellness to you, my friend.
Sheila
Sidney, NE
formerly of Oregon
and of Denver, CO
and quite formerly of MT.
sheila,
and wellness to you…
(to quote julian of norwich)
All will be well and all will be well and every kind of thing shall be well.
Thank you so much Mary Ann. I appreciate the accounting of cases and deaths, the handwashing information from the British dr was great, the bee on the purple flowers, the shells, all of your thoughts and of course the cat posse.
i am washing differently after seeing that demonstration and i will teach it to my students when next i see them!
Hi Mary Ann
Thank you for your beautiful blog posts. It is lovely to see the glorious countryside around you, it looks so peaceful, one would not imagine the horror going on in the world.
We are preparing to hunker down in Australia, our government is perhaps a little too slow for the majority of us in making important decisions regarding social distancing, lock down and the like. Our schools are still open, Lord knows why. We made a decision to self isolate a week ago, separating ourselves from family, hard to do, and friends, due to our age and risk factors.
Anyway, keep safe, keep blogging and hug the cats for me!
Trish from Australia.💕💕
hi trish, schools still open? goodness! i’m glad you’re staying home and staying safe. sending good tidings from all of us here – corky wyatt and me! xo