Resurgence

When the Covid pandemic evolved into high speed in March of 2020, I was taken somewhat by surprise. I was working full-time at an elementary school when, on the afternoon of Friday, March 13th following school, a meeting was called and we were told we should pack anything we needed to take home with us that day (plants, books, laptops, and personal items including food, etc.). The school's doors were being closed until further notice and though employees would be expected to work from home if needed and were essentially on call, they would remain home until further notice. It was speculated by many, at the time, such would end in mere weeks and we would then resume full operation. Regardless, employees not being in the building for a few weeks would give the maintenance staff time to clean and sanitize each building. Little did we know as we packed our things nothing could have been further from the truth for the worst had not begun.

As instructed, I took home all my necessary items that afternoon. After a trip for groceries and gas over the weekend, I settled into staying at home indefinitely. Despite the fear of not knowing what was to come, I initially felt a sense of relief. Please don’t judge or think me insensitive. While being frightened of the unknown, I had been working full-time for forty years at that point, so 'no onsite work until further notice' was not an unpleasant thought. I knew the situation was no laughing matter and as each day ensued, I saw how things grew more heated, intense, and dire. So many people were not only sick or dying but also struggling financially. I understood I was one of the fortunate few because though I was not actively working, I did not have to worry about steady income; the school district had assured employees paychecks would continue despite the situation.

In the beginning, I was able to catch up on postponed chores, mostly cleaning and going through storage about the house. Having bought a ton of groceries at the onset of the pandemic, I did not even have the pleasure of an excursion to the grocery store (something I normally enjoyed) for almost two months. Within a few weeks of being at home, having run out of television shows to watch or books to read, my daughter and I decided to plan a Bob Ross night where we enjoyed a glass (or two....or more) of wine while painting to one of the legendary artist’s instructional videos. With canvases and paint we had on hand, we brought life to mountains, trees, and snow. The actual painting that night did much to ease our boredom, but the wine we drink, eagerly and readily assisted our endeavors, ensuring our relaxation and enjoyment much more, at least for a while.

The Bob Ross night encouraged my newborn attempts at painting and started a process of documenting my endeavors through pictures I took to commemorate such moments. Though no Van Gogh or Botticelli, I found a newly discovered and immense enjoyment with painting while homebound.

Though I had drawn and painted as a young child, I had never attempted to take up the paint brush to try such things in adulthood until the Bob Ross night my daughter had instigated. As a result, painting has become an enjoyable avenue to this day that relinquishes stress and emotion.

Though I enjoyed painting, such attempts at keeping busy and enjoyment grew fewer and far between, lending life to a newly developed stretch of boredom. Able to do little else than what I’d already attempted, I turned to nature, beginning to venture outside more often during both the day and the night.

During those times, I awakened and relearned the beauty of surrounding silence and wonder, becoming more in tune with what was around me. Prompted by nature's simple yet elegant beauty, I began taking pictures of everything I saw but mostly pictures of the skies. During the days, I looked for amusing shapes formed by the clouds (as I often had done as a child) and at night, I looked to the moon and stars hanging far and wide in the dark skies, wondering about life's existence beyond our planet. At times I felt big, encompassed in the wonder of amazement, but mostly, I felt small and insignificant - and exceedingly fortunate to be alive amidst such impending sickness, uncertainty, and fear.

I continued to take pictures of nature and the skies until school resumed the following fall. Employed with new restrictions, and students and staff alike returned to the schools. For one and a half years thereafter, I always wore a mask while working as mandated by administration (masks for students were optional). Having done so, I can say (though some would disagree), wearing a mask made a distinct difference; for the first time in eighteen years while working at the school, I did not succumb to a cold or seasonal flu – and more importantly, to no Covid virus.

It's been over four years since the devastating pandemic, and it all seems quite surreal now in retrospect. I am quick to hope such a thing or epidemic never strikes us again, neither in my lifetime or thereafter. While wishing the memory of it all adieu, I will choose instead to remember an awakening of simpler and finer things I discovered in nature and all that surrounded my humble abode. In doing so, I learned even in the midst of such chaos and devastation, hope prevails to sustain us.

**All pictures taken by the author