On this Saturday, March 21, 2020, sunshine brings hope. Still cool at a little south of thirty degrees, there were birds at the feeder, discussion over morning coffee, and a plan to see grandchildren. Last evening we watched the movie, “Contagion,” and dawdled momentarily toward the thought of civil unrest. Then we returned to our binge watching of “The West Wing” and felt cozy again. And the hope and comfort were retained when we awoke to a bright orb in the sky. Sitting and meditating then discussing life as it confronts us truly has become a morning ritual for Christine and me. I know I’ve mentioned that before, but the time taken is so valuable to continue connected spirits, and at times, debate differences. Our Saturday shopping trip to Meijer’s found us in the midst of a quiet somber up and down the aisles. The masks have appeared on people’s faces; there was appropriate distancing, and there was little interaction. We saw neighbor Mike and had some conversation, but even for us it was muted. Fresh food is the norm for us, and the need exaggerated, now. The less processed food the less the body wastes energy on trying to figure out what to do with the junk. We’re acclimated to digesting and processing recognizable ingredients, so my cheffing has been ALL fresh anything. Finally, with a continued movement toward hope, we were enlightened by the kayak article that appeared in the Northern Express. The reminiscing of the adventure proves that we shall overcome the vicissitudes of the moment and “be” once again. Yes, sunshine brings hope.
It’s interesting that the weather affects our moods so much. I wonder if animals are affected in a similar way. Maybe it’s connected to our survival in our deep dark pasts, or, probably more likely, another one of our learned behaviors.