Another nerve-wracking trip yesterday to the saddest place in town – the grocery store. There are directional arrows on the floor now as compared to the last time I was there, and yellow tape wrapped around iron stands directs shoppers in case the floor markers don’t. Not quite a crime scene, but not far off.
And yet, there are people here. Real live human beings – not something I have seen much of since deplaning in Halifax on March 20th. My return was originally slated for today – April 16th – but plans made and hastily abandoned seem like a lifetime ago. Two full weeks of total isolation can do weird things to a person. Not only did it wipe out memories of beautiful Bali, the lack of human contact dulled my senses, made me a little less curious and welcoming of the world around me.
Community theatre with a somber message. 
The only job we have these days.
Luckily, I have since reclaimed some sense of normalcy by getting outside. In the warming spring sunshine, there are smiles to be had…and greetings. Not always as readily offered perhaps, but I’ve found that if I make the first move, faces light up. Folks are looking for any opportunity, however small, to feel human.
Badly-needed indoor colour. 
The streets of downtown Dartmouth are mostly deserted, regardless of time of day or week. Sundays were like this before shopping took over every waking moment. Leaving the commercial area behind and circling the lake brings more cheerful sights. It’s nesting time and the ducks and geese are out for romantic walks. Crocuses are ignoring social distancing rules, huddled in clumps along walkways and strewn across lawns. Easter eggs planted so carefully in the fall have sprouted into bushes and single flowers. Birds flit joyfully in the budding tree branches, blissfully unaware of the fear and chaos in the human world.
The animals are returning… 
Weird…
Returning home after a recent outing along empty city streets, a motorcycle blasted past me, driven by a guy dressed as Santa Claus with a top hat where his helmet should have been. This as the aroma of weed wafted in the balmy breeze. To hell with normal; it’s overrated.