Seeking cheer in the midst of fear

Every day this week I've reached a point when I just wanted to lie down and cry, usually toward the end of the afternoon when I'm exhausted from learning so many new skills and tired of my own company, but tears can be also triggered by minor matters, like the absence of cars in the campus parking lot, or major issues, like the lockdown at my Dad's assisted living facility, where he is no longer allowed to leave his room even to take walks up the hall and so spends all his time alone with nothing but the television to entertain him, and at the moment nothing he sees is particularly entertaining.

Spending too much time listening to news or looking at social media makes me jittery, and my attention span has gone all to pieces as I scramble for reasons to hope. So many groups and individuals are making resources available online--we should all be virtually touring art museums or learning new languages or watching opera or going outside to see nature doing its Spring thing. 

Carefully. Keeping our distance. Washing our hands.

Yesterday my daughter sent me a video of a chickadee feeding from my granddaughter's hand. The bird lands and Miss E looks surprised, and then the bird takes off just as a huge grin flashes across her face. I've played that video over and over again, and I'm also monitoring the Marietta College hawk nest live stream (click here). Outside my window the phoebes are calling and towhees have returned, and down by the creek the kingfishers are chattering up a storm. After a bit I'll walk out and see what else is happening in the non-virtual world.

I won't be gone long. You come too.