Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone ..
The Boys of Summer: Don Henley
It's Day 3 of the four week isolation and I woke up hearing in my head the song 'The Boys of Summer' by Don Henley.
I knew there was some lyric in that song that described what I saw yesterday on my walk. Nobody on the beach - usually there'd be kids a-plenty, people swimming, boats and jet skis, cars parked up with radios going, young folk playing guitars and singing.
Yesterday, only a small group ahead, and me ... and the sun really does go down alone right now.
I'm getting into an isolation routine: Betsy-cat howls at me around 6am and it's impossible to sleep through it. She's pretty much deaf and as her hearing has declined, her voice has gotten louder. It's an immediate wake-up call from a deep sleep. I get up and feed her right away otherwise she won't quit.
Part of getting up is opening the curtains and the bedroom window to let in some early morning air, see what the morning is like. If Betsy happens to run late with her wake-up call, as she did this morning, it's daybreak when I open the curtains. Peaceful, quiet, the sky just beginning to pink up as the sun rises.
Then it's into the shower, get dressed, go down to my writing studio (The Writing Place) to work. Put on the coffee (Jeds Number 4) and toast, switch on everything, power up the computer, sit down and get into it. My contract work is down, as it is with everyone, so I've been working on some of my own writing projects during this time and taking online sessions with writers.
Betsy often comes downstairs to visit me. She expects a small saucer of milk. I often think that's why she makes the trek all the way down, quite a hike for a 21- year old babe (I'll take a photo of the stairs for my next post so you can see what I mean). Then she sacks out on the deck in the sun and when I finish work, we go back upstairs for lunch. I often carry her up a ways as goin' up is harder than comin' down.
Then it's beach walk time, keeping the respectful distance from people I meet, a conversation with my neighbour and walking buddy Pam if she's out as well, then back home to do some chores, then around 4pm it's a nip of whiskey and a book. Fortunately I got several from the library before it closed but I'm whipping through them and know I'll have to start re-reading some of the books I have here.
So that's the routine. Seems to work for now. Today looks like a nice day: sun, a brisk wind coming in from the south. Every day this week has felt like a Saturday or Sunday because everyone's at home and it's kinda quiet. Today really is Saturday.
Feels no different.
Thanks for sharing.
Leave a Reply.
These are extraordinary times..
I'm writing about our