I think I’ve given myself mental whiplash with all the changes I’m witnessing taking place in society every day and the fast moving news on the latest coronavirus updates and knowledge about the virus. There was the welcoming change this week of seeing a new little sandhill crane colt enjoying wandering through the garden
amidst the changes taking place daily at the grocery store to try to keep everyone safe. We now have one way aisles, plexiglass at the checkout counter, requirements to wear a mask, everyone maintaining a social distance with panicking eyes above those masks, limits on products, shelves remaining empty and the reminder to not spend time in the produce aisle squeezing the products. Since I never hang out in that section of the store, the only photo I have to include as a reminder to not squeeze the produce is this orange left along the shore at the park this week.
I’m sure that I’ve mentioned that over my lifetime I’ve tried to avoid grocery shopping as much as possible and have been pretty successful. A few batches of brown bananas, squishy tomatoes and more dessert than meat and for some reason people lost interest in asking me to grocery shop. It has been a shock to become the designated shopper during all these changes combined with the fear of the virus. Now that I’m responsible for shopping it has been a nerve-racking experience trying to figure out why people prior to this ever chose grocery shopping over restaurants, how do I find all these items when I’m only familiar with the dessert, frozen foods and wine aisles and how in the world do people actually come up with meal plans. Also, along with the constant thought to absolutely not touch anything in the store that I do not plan on purchasing before my masked photo shows up on some corona-shaming site, there was the governor’s friendly reminder this week on behalf of grocery store workers to not only not touch all the produce, but do not remove your mask and lick your finger to open those tricky little produce bags (very soon I can imagine them adding traffic lights to the wine and dessert aisles). All this stress has caused an increase in snacking and for some reason at home I keep touching all the cookies and am unable to share them.
The signs of the changing times are everywhere, from the horseshoe courts closed with the stakes covered,
to finding it very strange to see people close to one another after being home too many hours watching the news where almost everyone is separated by screens or six feet
and parents begging one another to take the kids for a walk at the park for an hour of peace and quiet.
Small, big or insignificant the changes are sweeping past as fast as this feather zipped by the kayak. Just when I think I’m adapting, accepting and sometimes finding humor in these changes, I’m hit with moments of panic like when I watched the great series finales of Will & Grace and Homeland and almost found myself yelling at the screen that there’s too much change going on and don’t leave me now.