Changing my perspective

 

Lunch, anyone?

When I was out walking in my neighborhood a few days ago, I saw these two deer snacking on someone's greenery. At first, I thought they were lawn ornaments, and then one of them moved. The one on the right was so close to me that I could almost reach out and touch her (I think it is a doe). I took out my phone and snapped the shot. They turned back to lunch, while I continued on my way.

It made me think about how much things look different at first glance, and then how my feelings change when I look at something from a new perspective. After six months in virtual lockdown from the pandemic, much of my new life has become familiar. I still shop at my favorite grocery store, but the numbers of people allowed inside at one time is smaller, and everyone wears a mask. We keep our distance from each other, and we don't hug or make physical contact with friends when we encounter them. It's become almost normal. I walk around in my neighborhood several times a week for exercise, instead of my gym, which is still not open. I don't think I would want to go there, even if it were open, knowing how airborne the virus is. We are living through an unprecedented time in the history of the world.

Not that there haven't been plagues and viruses in the past, but there were never before so many of us, and with instant communication, we know what is happening in other parts of the world. We are spared from natural disasters here at the moment, but we have no guarantee of continued calm. There is a sense of unease that permeates my surroundings, as we move inevitably closer to the national election on November 3. Just a few miles north of here, the Canadian border separates our countries, although it is closed until at least October 21 (and I suspect they will not reopen it then, either), because Canada has very low infection rates, and we here in the US have among the highest in the world. And fall is here, with cold weather following close behind.

Many of our favorite restaurants have extended their outside seating areas so that people don't have to come inside except to order. When it is rainy or cold, we just get our coffee and/or breakfast and take it home. Sometimes my friend John and I sit in the cab of his truck and visit while we drink our coffee. He is part of my Covid "pod," or safe people to hang out with.

Pods are small, self-contained networks of people who limit their non-distanced social interaction to one another—in other words, they're the small group of people with whom you share air without using breath-control precautions such as masks.

John will soon have surgery on his shoulder and will then leave my pod, because he will be exposed to other people.  I'll miss him, because he has become part of my everyday life, seeing him at least for a half hour every morning. These days, we sit outside if the weather is good and enjoy each other's company. His companionship comforts me and gives me a sense of normalcy in this otherwise altered environment. We laugh together and commiserate about our changed lives. John turned eighty this past spring, and his health is about average for someone his age, but he misses the dances he went to every week and is getting less exercise. I admonish him to walk more, but he mostly gets his exercise on his tractor, moving dirt and manure as part of his landscape activity. That will change along with the weather.

We have had a few days of rain, but now we are headed into a warm Indian Summer period, and I'll enjoy every little bit of it, knowing how short it is likely to be. All of next week is projected to be dry with above-normal temperatures. It will allow me to spend more time outdoors, with a possible hike in the mountains with my friends, a last hurrah before being forced to stay close to home for my outings. My world will shrink a bit as I retreat into my warm home as the weather changes.

One of my blogging friends lives in Australia, and I am reminded when I visit her blog that south of the equator, spring is just beginning. Her pictures of the burgeoning spring flowers gives me such joy, and it reminds me that perspective is dependent on one's vantage point. While we prepare for the cold weather, she is walking among the tulips and getting ready for the warm weather to come. One of my daily activities is absorbing the Astronomy Picture of the Day. It always helps to give me a more inclusive perspective of my daily life. We are all inhabitants of Planet Earth, but our beautiful planet is only one little speck in the immense universe. 

It is not easy to see how the more extreme forms of nationalism can long survive when men have seen the Earth in its true perspective as a single small globe against the stars. —Arthur C. Clarke

 I have always been a fan of science fiction, and I have read stories that take me along to distant planets, with many different ways of seeing ourselves. One of my favorite authors is Ursula LeGuin, who wrote The Left Hand of Darkness, a story I have read and re-read because she shows me how much different we would be if we were not always the same sex. Her characters cycle in and out of being male or female. Just think about how that might change your perspective!

I will be getting up soon, and I'll start my day with a trip to the coffee shop. Although it's colder these mornings, it's fun to dress for the weather and sit outside and enjoy our coffee and (sometimes) breakfast. First, I'll do my morning exercises out on the front porch and make sure I am dressed appropriately for staying outside. Right now it's a bit nippy (49°F/9°C) but it should warm up quickly, once the sun rises. That isn't happening now until 7:05am. We are past the fall equinox and the days are shorter than the nights, until we reach the nadir on December 21, when the days will begin to lengthen once again. I love the cycle of seasons.

And with that, I will sign off and make my way into the rest of my day. This task on Sunday mornings almost always makes me feel better about life, and I hope it might do the same for you as well. My dear partner sleeps quietly next to me, the tea is long gone, and the day beckons. Until we meet again next week, I wish you nothing but the best. Be well and don't forget to count your blessings. You are one of mine.