We've been taking lots of bike rides lately
Morning, mid-day, late-afternoon, and early evening
Between e-learning tasks, work calls
Our popular route takes us by a Colonial red brick two-story
built into the side of a gently sloping hill
This time I notice a new landscaping detail
It seems the owner covered all
the special garden
fountains
tchotchkes
fairies
birdbaths
statuettes
in copper paint
Every single one
I guess it's easy to categorize
creating a world of uniformity and predictability
consistent evidence of preference, comfort
aligned in harmonious detail
I swipe through my quarantine photos
e-learning assignments I emailed to teachers
Bible verse art
themed front-door decorations
the living room e-learning parlor
bedrooms neatly tended
family room game times
kitchen table Monopoly matches
home-schooling charts hung on the pantry door
lists of our triggers and potential solutions
belly breaths
Grandma laughing on FaceTime
my desk upstairs
its remote project to-do list atop stacks of spiral-bound books
my laptop with its faded keys
recipes I'd like to try when I have more time
screenshots of Zoom meeting codes, passwords
a sunset
random Timehop memories I've saved again
even though the kids are bigger now
from vacations
seasonal family gatherings
ball games
the consistency
Tonight I drop my elder off at his first baseball practice for this season
Later we're packing to go to my parents' for the weekend
the first time in months
I went to a store on Tuesday
it'd been since mid-March
I sipped on a chai latte from Starbucks
my husband brought it to me today while I worked
because I'm still digging out
from the multi-faceted home/work me
Pandemics aren't so easy to categorize,
to create a memory where there's
uniformity of emotion, space, or time
good
bad
happy
sad
all
safety
grief
sanctuary
stress
both/and
plenty
want
mixed with
togetherness
loneliness
unending quiet
soft conversations
green grass
new leaves
warmth
missing in my photostream
priceless
and exquisite
God's provision
my heart
Minus the copper-colored garden...
Write on,
b
