May 13, 2020

I want to report for the record that on May 8, 2020, as we were on the porch in the morning looking out…there were some snow particles floating down from above.

Snow particles, on May 8, 2020.

That same day, May 8, our nighttime temperature just before midnight was 28 Fahrenheit—and the weather network added that it “felt like” 18.

And on the following day, it snowed. Not that the white stuff accumulated, because it didn’t. But it was just a little depressing to look out the living room window and see a snow squall in progress. We had a few of those on Saturday, and each time there were entire seconds when the snow was falling so thick and fast, it cut visibility noticeably. And yes, it felt very cold—likely colder than it actually was.

The weather did give us a break on Sunday, for Mother’s Day, and that was a blessing because I was looking forward to seeing some members of my family. They were coming by for a visit—us on the porch, them on the sidewalk. I hadn’t seen any of them for two months. I was so grateful they came to visit. It was joyful and sad at the same time. However, I choose to cling to the joyful. I will hug them again.

I should probably admit that in years past, on the Victoria Day weekend which this year is May 16 through 18, it has indeed snowed. It has snowed quite convincingly. Not so much after that date, but definitely up to and on that occasion. The weekend, which some consider the first long weekend of the summer season, is traditionally a weekend for camping, and for those of a much younger age, partying. Our Victoria Day always falls on the Monday before the U.S.’s Memorial Day.

Victoria Day is also a day for fireworks. In fact, it used to be the only day for fireworks we had when I was younger. In those days, apparently, celebrating the country’s birthday of July 1st wasn’t considered a significant enough reason for fireworks.

So far, this spring is a bit cooler and damper than I like, but it is what it is. There are flowers in my garden—daffodils, hyacinths and narcissus. The tulips will bloom soon, the lilacs have tiny leaves, and the singular shoots of the lilies-of-the-valley are reaching high.

I really hope this year the lilacs and those little lilies bloom at the same time. I feel as if I really need that precious scent again this year.

We continue to stay home here in my neck of the woods. The actual active test-confirmed cases of the coronavirus not hospitalized in our county are 4. I suppose one could say, well, fine, it’s time to get back to normal. I know some people are trying to do just that and, except for the fact that most of the stores, and all of the malls, restaurants, bars and theaters are still closed, have succeeded. They’re getting together with friends, some in homes, some in parks, some at beaches. It is happening here, but not nearly so much as in the United States.

I have seen Benjamin Franklin’s quote about the penalty that is deserved if one surrenders liberty for safety used by many who are, like children, protesting being at home during this pandemic. Again, as with the quote from Patrick Henry that I cited previously, I am not at all certain the safety that Mr. Franklin was referring to was keeping oneself and others safe from a global pandemic. He doesn’t appear to have been a man who would celebrate selfishness. And friends, it is nothing but selfish to insist on going out and mingling in large gatherings when the result of your actions may be to make others sick, possibly to the point of death.

Most people who contract this novel coronavirus are asymptomatic. Unless they get tested, they don’t know they have it. But for those people, just with like any disease, if you have it you can pass it—and the ones you pass it to may not be as fortunate as you to be asymptomatic.

I think more likely Franklin was referring to ceding liberty to the state and making yourself a de facto servant with no rights, not just staying in your house, or wearing masks in public while maintaining physical distance from others.

I want to shake these people, these protesters. Are you prisoners held in chains? Have you lost your right to vote and your citizenship? For those of you grumbling because you have been asked to stay home in order to save lives, I give you this analogy.

If there was an active shooter on your street, and the police told you to shelter in place, would you beat your chest, scream, “No, I will not obey! Give me liberty or give me death!” and then run out into the street, dragging your grandmother behind you, in order to provide a couple of prime targets for the gunman?

Put that way, it’s a ridiculous question, isn’t it? Your answer to the above would be not just no, but hell, no. Point made.

Everyone, most definitely including yours truly, is anxious for this to be over, so that life can get back to normal. I do know this will be over. I do know we will get back to normal.

What I just don’t know, is what our new normal is going to look like.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury