Once again, I sit at my desk at Roskhill, looking out on a dark, still and silent landscape as the fading light from the already set sun once again paints the sky in impossibly beautiful streaks of yellow, orange and blue.
The first strange month of 2021 has almost ended. Government-imposed coronavirus rules and restrictions have meant that throughout the entire month, we have been almost no-where, met almost no-one, done what feels like, almost nothing.
It is such an alien feeling. Humanity here is almost at a standstill while we wait for science to save us from any further spread of this so infectious of diseases.
We are told that another whole month, and maybe more, will have to pass before anything much - for human life here in Britain - may change.
But the sun will keep on rising and setting. Time continues inexorably. Snowdrops are already in flower by the garden shed, and spring's yellow bounty of bright bobbing daffodils are busy thrusting their leaves through the almost frozen soil. Next will come the bluebells.
Planet Earth will not stop turning, and every new dawn brings us a little closer to our hopes for the human future - to meet the friends we miss, to hug the ones we love.
But for now - it's another silent night on Skye.
5 comments:
Celia wrote: Think you speak for us all Richard. I had my first vaccination today. They gave me the AstraZeneca model! (Shhh. Don’t tell the EU).
Rod wrote:
Photographer, artist and now poet! Fascinating what this pandemic draws out. Hope we will soon meet again as we get into the spring.
Sara wrote:
Beautifully written as ever, Richard. It definitely feels as it life on earth has almost ground to a halt but let's hope that the clever scientists can save humanity. With so much time on our hands we're going to count birds tomorrow for the Big Garden Birdwatch. At least it will fill another hour of the day!
Richard, you write so eloquently I'm sure there is a poet or a novelist in you somewhere! Why not try your hand at writing a book now you've got all this spare time!!
Wow - thank you Frances! I don't think there is a book in me, though I used to write a lot of poetry - just for myself of course. Now, I think the occasional blog post is about my limit!
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