A Sad Place

Just five minutes walk from my door, this has always been my special place, my happy place, somewhere I can regroup and find perspective. Ravaged by a winter of record winds and rainfall, it now only brings me sadness. It's a metaphor for the fact that nothing can ever be taken for granted. Nature always seems to be offering me metaphors.

There is no perspective at the moment because we still don't understand the underlying metrics of this virus. The universal availability of testing could be a game-changer. That has to remain the big hope right now, one thing to cling on to as all our normal structures and routines are collapsing.

The feeling of powerlessness on a personal level hit home today. Passing through town, I felt the need to offer thanks to someone who was working to help keep the country running. I spotted a train driver outside the station, looking for passengers. We chatted at the still strange distance of about twelve feet that seems to have been settled on for casual encounters. He was due to head into Bradford in five minutes. There were no takers. Not one.

This evening, I could feel my systems shutting down in defence. I think it might have been the point when my internal models of the world have finally realigned to reality. It's all fully sunk in. I'm not expecting to be springing out of bed in the morning.