Deep within the heart of me is a familiar voice I’ve heard before. I am hearing it again. It speaks a language I understand, telling me to curtail cavalier and to minimize mingling. Some media voices are saying it will be all right for me to go where I need to go, provided I am careful to wash my hands, wear a protective mask, and consider the space between myself and others. “The worst is over,” some are assuredly saying, “we understand more now.” I wonder, though, do we really know more?
Then speaks that voice within more clearly. I am listening. The first phase has passed, but a fresh season has begun, and the virus mixtures won’t be fun. Some familiar cold and flu germs will rise up with strong imitations, both varied and unfamiliar, and be associated with Covid.
This is a new phase of rest, not fear. Practice caution: don’t be cavalier. Autumn removed her brilliant covering to prepare for rest, under a blanket of white snow. All of nature has followed suit, in separate spaces. Perhaps I should too. I am still listening to my inner voice, to shelter in place. The trees of the field are.