The Dendrophile

It seems incredulous that this morning is the end of week ten and my tenth COVID blog.

Another glorious morning and the weather once more ‘divine’ I say this in every sense of the word as how much harder would this have been, if the past ten weeks were dismal and wet?

From tomorrow our English government begins to slowly lift restrictions and very gradually we will emerge into our new normal. I know that I am not the only one to feel apprehensive, in regards to this next stage.

Part of my trip to Gilead this week (food shopping) was horrid, it compounded these fears and I felt anxious and uncomfortable.

I am pretty shocking at directions, even listening to Google Maps sends me the wrong way, I have also now discovered that pedestrian traffic cones have a similar effect.

When I arrived at the supermarket I collected a trolley and followed the directed cone route or so I thought. I have to say that the direction of these markings left me completely discombobulated (I have been waiting to use this fabulous word) and I headed to where I thought I should queue, I was of course totally in the wrong place.

This is where I began to feel nervous, there were so many people wearing masks and sunglasses and it suddenly felt inhuman and menacing because masks hide faces but more importantly, smiles.

Every connotation of mask wearing terrifies me, I have never had a positive encounter with a mask. Doctors wear masks and this usually means they have performed or are about to perform an unpleasant procedure and ‘Dentists’ of whom I am far more petrified (due to a childhood trauma) wear masks.

Masks are also worn by the Cybermen in Dr Who, I rest my case.

I felt as if everyone was staring at me, watching my utter confusion and yet not one person intervened or said “You’re going the wrong way love” everyone looked remote and disconnected and I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears.

In that moment, it seemed as if all kindness and humanity had been stripped bare.

I eventually entered the supermarket and thankfully these vile feelings subsided. Fellow shoppers were polite, while keeping their distance and an older lady asked me if I knew where the oven cleaner was? We eventually arrived in the same aisle and I managed to point to the shelf where they were, she must have thanked me at least three times, remarking that it was ‘only the dirt that held her oven together’ and then without cloth barriers, we smiled.

It should have been me that gave thanks, for turning my world the right way up again.

Despite this and some might say irrational fear, I have reluctantly purchased a mask as advised, “For small and enclosed public places, where social distancing is not possible.” I chose a Liberty Print to detract from the ugliness.

This design has tiny delicate flowers but it feels so very alien and tugs at the fibres of my very being. I know I need to bend and adapt, not just to wearing a mask but to living with this virus.
Experts now predict it will be around for some time months, possibly years and like all viruses it may change it’s form and composition. All while we wait and pray for the vaccine we know is possible, to debilitate this heartbreak.

As always this week and every day I watch the daily briefings and a question was asked to which there was no given answer. This of course isn’t anything unusual as all politicians are adept at swerving questions but the reply to this question is one I believe we are all waiting for.

When can we hug our families?

This lack of any explanation weighed heavily, I like many are waiting to hold my family and in a glib remark to my girls and a friend, I mentioned that I might have to go and hug a tree instead!

This got me thinking about people that do such things and I thought that just maybe there might be something in it, after all why do people bother if there isn’t?
So, I decided I had nothing to lose and I could at least tell the tree about this feeling of sadness and being at one with nature might just help. Clint Eastwood seemed to think it was a good idea in ‘Paint Your Wagon’ and if it’s good enough for Dirty Harry…

I already knew which tree, my jogging marker tree as I often speak to her as I pant past, I say ‘her’ because Grandmother Willow in ‘Pocahontas’ is a tree and yes, I do know it is a Disney film and that animals and nature do not really talk, but as I was contemplating something pretty out there anyway, why the hell not?

I have started to go for early morning runs with it being so hot, there is something about the beginning of day that feels a little special and it also means that there is not much human life around.

The photo above was taken in the early morning, you can see my marker tree in the distance and the presence of a little green orb.

Now, there are two trains of thought for this, the first is a photographic explanation, something to do with exposure and sunlight and the other is the existence of a nature sprite.
Obviously, I am plumping for the latter.

I think I chose the most awkward tree to hug as there are easier trees on my route but unfortunately they are far more open to me being seen.

This tree hugging experience was nothing like I thought it would be, it was somewhat awkward as there were lots of branches in the the way of the trunk but there was also something unexpected.

As I moved closer I saw a pair of tights that were very clearly and deliberately tied to the tree. This started me thinking and so instead of telling the tree my woes, I asked her for its secrets.

As expected she didn’t answer (the same thing happened with Clint) so I have made up my own. This being that they are in memorandum of something raw and wonderful.

Strangely, I am very glad I hugged a tree, I really won’t be doing it again but in an odd way it was unusually comforting.

It also felt quite hippieish and bohemian and I rather liked that.

Peace Out 💚

Joy xxx