The Corona Chronicles

" The real voyage of discovery does not consist in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

Marcel Proust - A la Recherche du temps perdu

Well it has been roughly 40 days since the reality of Covid19 has forced itself into our lives. Changing the way we fill our days. Forcing us to live in isolation. Limiting our movement and completely cutting out all human contact in the area of touch except within already established family units and partnerships. Here are some of my thoughts on the weird surreal world that we have all lived in for the past month.

My last two posts were written around the concept of Sabbatical, Jubilee and enforced rest. I wrote at the beginning of this crisis, rather flippantly about Psalm 23 and how the Lord MAKES US LIE DOWN TO REST. Despite feeling rather bold stating that this might just be a rather brilliant way of working everything together for our good by resting the planet and healing our fractured lives, I still felt rather presumptuous in writing what I wrote. And yet I stand by it. What I wrote was very relevant and valid. I thought my 50th year on earth would involve a Sabbatical and it has. I am paid to not work. It is very strange!

I am not going to get into a debate on disease and where this virus came from. It is killing people and that is evil and not something I want to write about. John 10:10 - The thief comes to rob, steal & destroy. But I have come that you may have life and life in abundance.

I will always point my readers back to the One who brings life. He alone is worth all our attention. I am very aware of how destructive this virus has been to multitudes who have died and to our global economy. But the media has done a brilliant job of avidly following every twist and turn in the demonic debacle. I will not add my homage to it.

I can only write about what I know. My world. What has been unfolding around me on a daily basis. My eyes have been on SPRING unfolding.

Just before this season began we had been through a very wet and mild winter. It was grey and the weather was depressing for months on end. But as soon as the virus hit we entered the most unusual April ever. Weeks of solid sunshine. It was amazing. As a result a massive proportion of the last 40 days have been spent outside, soaking in the sunshine.

Living on my own meant I sought companionship outside with the horses that graze in the field opposite. I gave them names because it felt wrong to just call them the brown male and dark female horse. So they became Rosie and Rhubarb! I started visiting them just to have the sensation of touch met. The tactile side of me that needed a hug. I wrapped my arms around Rosies neck and hugged her. She was not the easiest horse to love, impatient with me and very independent. But I forced her to love me by wearing down her defences.

I started sitting outside under one particular old oak tree that had lost its top and as a consequence was the perfect nesting place for a goose! At first I thought I was just watching the Egyptian geese nest in a hole half way up the tree. But then as the days passed I looked higher and realised that there was a Canadian goose nesting at the top of the tree. I decided to keep the mothers company and sat in my deckchair on the grass below watching the world go by.

I really wanted to be there when the babies hatched, I wanted to see them launch themselves out of the tree and land on the grass below. I wanted to see them make their way down the Chestnut tree avenue to the lake. But annoyingly the Egyptian geese hatched one lunch time when I was inside making a sandwich. I returned to my spot and realised that the male goose was no longer grazing grass around the base of the tree as was his usual routine, keeping an attentive eye on his lady. I ran down to the lake and there they were, 4 little Egyptian gosling babies jumping into the water. It was a wonderful moment of joy to see them all alive and well, even though I was also really frustrated to have just missed them leaving their hollow in the tree.

From that moment on it was Greta the Canadian goose who I focussed on. Looking up to see if she was still seated on her lofty nest, perched at the very top of the tree. I would greet her 4 or 5 times a day always looking up and searching for her little dark head sitting just above the trunk. Greeting her in the mornings and bidding her a good nights sleep at dusk.

I remember the nights that surrounded Passover and Easter. The time I sat with her watching the huge blossom full moon rise. The strangest moon I have ever seen in my life. I was expecting a moon with a pink tinge, but this was a massive crimson red moon. It was freaky and weird and very appropriate for this surreal experience we have all lived through. When the tip of the moon crept above the horizon, it was a deep blood red. It sent a shiver down my spine. It rose in the sky a flaming ball of fire. I called it 'The BLOOD moon.' It was a night I will never forget. We shared that moment. Greta, Rosie, Rhubarb and I!

I watched her craning her neck out to hear the call of her beloved. He was often to be found grazing in the field with the horses. I watched her fight off rival geese who wanted to land in her tree and use her spot to brood their own eggs. I remember the day she soared down to the lawn to dance with her sweetheart taking a short break from her nesting duties. I watched amazed as they moved as one, necks outstretched, calling and cooing in a tango through the grass.

After what felt like forever, I stopped counting the days and decided that she was deluded. There were no babies. She was just a mutant goose who liked her own company. I watched her partner fly up to her nest and perch on the side of the hollow. I imagined he was having an argument with her about abandoning her throne and rejoining him on solid ground. He missed her. He was lonely. She refused. She remained aloft. I still looked for her and called to her. But my hopes of her ever having babies were gone. I forgot that I had asked God to make sure I was around to see the babies hatch and jump out of the tree. I lost faith. I had no hope.

The days turned into weeks. The bluebells arrived in the woods and I was distracted by how intense their colour was. I found new areas of woodland that I never knew existed. I followed wildlife trails through acres of sunshine and deep indigo flowers. I took my thermos of coffee and a bible and lay down in a sea of blue. Listening to the birds calling. Watching bees humming from flower to flower, supping on sweet nectar. I lay under dancing butterflies. It was heavenly.

There is a huge ancient old twisted and cracked cherry tree that I lay under and when the wind blew up above in the branches, a confetti of cherry blossom rained down on me. I watched the petals drifting down through the air. I lay there smiling up at blue skies above, listening to the wind in the treetops. A whole month of April spent in my own secret, hidden world.

And then the weather turned. It grew hotter and more humid. I found a field of wild flowers to sleep in and started making wildflower wreaths. I was loved and adored by the mosquitoes who lavished me with love bites!

A couple of days ago I was outside trimming a towering Holly tree that has grown too big outside my window. It was then that I heard the calling of an excited goose. Looking over I was surprised to see Greta no longer in her tree. But down on the lawn.

And then I saw them. 3 little fat bundles of yellow sunshine at her feet. I thought 3 was more than enough. I had expected 1 or 2 babies. But Greta was looking up at the tree and calling. Her voice now so familiar to her babies. She was calling them home. Calling them down to solid ground.

To my delight I realised there were more to come. As I looked up a small package launched itself out of the tree above. Free falling with no control towards the earth, Crashing down into the long grass below the tree. And then another came tumbling down. And another. And a seventh! Greta rushed over to check they were all still alive and help them orientate themselves.

I was so excited. I wanted to join in the celebrations. Open a bottle of bubbly. Greta was happy and proud, hubby at her side and 7 sweet little babies following her in a little procession. I watched the rest of the Canadian geese come over to welcome the new babies. I followed the happy couple and took pictures.

I couldn't believe that my little prayer had been answered. Of all the places I could be at that exact moment, I was in the right place at the the right time to see them arrive. It was a miracle and I ended April grateful that the Father truly cares about even my little request to see the baby goslings jump out of the tree!

And so in conclusion - My April has not been consumed with Covid 19. For me April has been all about Spring unfolding. It has been about the beautiful world that surrounds me. It has been about me hiding under the shadow of His wings. My hidden season in a special magical place. The delicious lush bluebell woods. Cherry blossom confetti. Bird song, butterflies and bees. My friends Greta, Rosie & Rhubarb.

I know I am spoilt, but then again, He loves me. Oh how He loves me.