Keeping distance has really not been all that difficult for me. I’m mostly introverted–an INFP–though I might fool you with my extroverted side. I’m not sure if that’s a natural or developed part of me. Also, I don’t get the Enneagram stuff and don’t have enough patience to work my way through it.
Back to keeping distance. Just think of the advantages. Though I miss my family a ton and have had to cancel many things (and have had them cancelled for me), there’s been no rush, no pressure. No packing and unpacking. No big expense in travel and dog care. No makeup. The bigger frustration is knowing I CAN’T do whatever I might think I want to.
We’re still waiting to find out what Disney wants us to do with our tickets, and we’re supposed to be sitting in Yankee Stadium next week to see “my” Tigers. That game hasn’t been officially postponed yet, so I’m not sure what our ticket options will be.
Also, keeping distance and being isolated means there’s always tomorrow. That, of course, is a lie.
If you follow me on Instagram, you know we spend a lot of time in the Loxahatchee. It’s pretty easy to keep distance there, especially if one arrives before the sun comes up or later toward sundown. Lately though, I think there are more than the regulars coming. We’ve seen a handful of people with dogs (that’s a big no-no except out on the levee) and a handful of little kiddos whose parents don’t seem to our eyes to be paying appropriate attention. Like hello… there are snakes and alligators out here. And it’s possible to get a little too close to the bank and maybe tumble into the water.
Sunday I stepped off the path (gingerly after looking all around) to get a closeup of the passion flower at the top of this post. While I was focusing, my husband calmly said, “There’s a gator.” Of course, I stepped back, but I couldn’t see it across the little water trail. By then, it had ducked behind the reeds. It made me wonder how many we’ve passed by on days we’ve only actually seen one or two.
Unseen danger (like this stupid virus) lurks everywhere. But I think the virus is way more dangerous than the critters we see out there. We always keep a respectable distance from them and they from us.
Also, last weekend (for the second time in a week) an alligator crossed the path in front of us. What a thrill! It’s mating season right now, so we decided (he?) was feeling a little passionate and looking for love. I made up a little story and posted it on IG.
Here’s a thing about alligators. They really respect us as much as we respect them and aren’t usually dangerous unless provoked or guarding a nest. There are isolated ones, though, who might be looking for a handout because someone once handed them a treat. So one could see a human as the source of a marshmallow (seriously, I heard that people sometimes fed the dudes and dudettes that sugar) and decide to bite the hand that didn’t feed them.
At one point we stepped back to give a crane family some distance as they turned down the path and pecked their way toward and past us. Later we followed a great blue heron (what poet Mary Oliver called a “blue preacher”) as he (?) strode down the path in front of us before veering to the left. There was the river otter that trotted in front of us, darting in and out of the side brush.
We keep our distance, and they keep theirs. And yet we are connected.
What advantages, if any, do you see to keeping distance?
Martha J Orlando says
Like you, Sandra, I’m an introvert, so this sequestered time isn’t that difficult for me. However, my prayers go out to all those poor folks who have lost their jobs and are barely able to hold body and soul together. I’m so hoping that more and more states will start opening up, as Georgia is doing, allowing people to go to work if they so choose. The rest of us who are in the high risk group can choose to stay home while all this is going on.
Love your photos, my friend, and your analogy for social distancing!
Sandra Heska King says
I hear you, Martha. I do worry about the healthcare workers and how those who go out might contract illness could end up in the hospital. And then how does that affect elective and not-so-elective surgeries. And how many of us are maybe already immune? I will be glad when we have access to antibody testing–and, of course, a vaccine. I also worry about the decision makers. They have to make such hard choices, and they surely don’t want to be wrong. Hindsight is so much easier than foresight.
South Florida probably won’t be opening up much any time soon, but places to the north have started.
Thanks for stopping by. It’s always so sweet to see you.