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?