This is the fourth year I’ve wintered in the warmer mid-South in northeastern Mississippi near its borders with Tennessee and Alabama. The people are sweet and friendly, the cost of living low, and the weather much warmer 890 miles south of the Twin Cities.
In February there as temperatures rise, daffodils flourish. Some locals call them Buttercups. In the Western US where I grew up, different yellow flowers are called buttercups, but I’ll call Mississippi’s bright yellow beauties whatever I need to to admire them and the parade of narcissus, tulips, hyacinths, and eventually magnolias that follows.
I experience two falls by driving south, a short winter, and then two springs while returning north—like living inside a Walt Disney time lapse movie—except this year the celluloid film reel got stuck.
Some winters are longer than others. This time, spring forgot to come and we’ve been locked into snow and ice like C.S. Lewis’s Narnia. I came to Minnesota early because my doctor sons wanted me close during COVID. Since they both face exposure, they then asked me to shelter alone on our small farm. I arrived March 19th, waiting for the Mid-South’s springtime to find me. The grass is green now. Leaves are appearing. People plant gardens most Mother’s Days, but not this year when hard frost and snow flurries ruled.
During these days, I’ve observed nature at closer range than I intended and appreciate its lessons. I’m comforted by its constancy–and survivability.
While necessary, I’ll practice wise distancing but then celebrate social interaction and take fewer things for granted. Scenes change, seasons turn, and even COVID shall pass. I’ll look forward to discussing it as an unusual phenomenon gone by to not see again.
How do you handle events that are termed strange, unprecedented, historic, without equal? What has been hard? Where have you been strong? What would you do differently? God bless our nation, world, and people through every large and small step of this transition.
Unfortunately, I think I’ve been getting lazier. Most of my happenings are from a big La-Z-Boy. My daily to-do list just consists of a smattering of little things – a few which get me out of the chair – take a walk, sort __, clean__, study some languages, follow an online book club, etc. When one is doing these things in a solitary way, although they are accomplishments, they aren’t as fun (most are done with the TV on in the background for company). From a positive aspect, it has been a good time to learn new things, notice and do little things around the house, and relax the body. When I see news about how the earth is benefiting from our isolation (not to mention lives being saved), I am cheered. However, people were intended to be with people and to work, and I look forward to the day when I can get back to it.
I always appreciate hearing from you, Karen. Stay safe, have good walks, and stay out of drenching rain 🙂