COVID winter – – haibun

the news is a cacophony of stress … more COVID variants, more positive tests, more deaths, talk of ICU triage guidelines, and the vaccine rollout slowing to a trickle. What can I say? What can I do?

deep snow

on the deck and

it’s still snowing

But who wants to read gloomy observations? Most of us are wanting to be soothed, to forget.

darning

blue mittens

the colour of spring

©️2021 Ontheland

scrabble – – haibun

Another day at home for the two of us and the dogs. The wind knocks over a shovel on the porch and 55 pound Diesel barrels across the floor barking urgently. The other two dogs chime in, their madness continuing as snow blows its quiet storm.

.

.

playing scrabble

from opposite ends of the room

on smart phones

.

.

©️2021 Ontheland

January 14, 2021 – – haibun

As another grey day winds down, I hide in a new writing corner. This is my first, and hopefully, last pandemic winter. Last year, the infamous 2020, covid 19 may have been lurking in January, but no whistle had been blown. It wasn’t until mid-March on the cusp of spring that the World Health Organization declared a world pandemic.

Cold, damp, and dry, winter is our flu season, the time people typically get colds and flu so it is no surprise that COVID numbers are skyrocketing. I have been staying home but as of today it’s mandatory in Ontario…the pressure on society and the suffering of many is palpable, my salvation being gratitude for food, shelter, a home and so far, good health.

COVID winter

in the deep freeze dreaming

a Pfizer jab

.

.

©️2021 Ontheland

reopening – – haibun

The library email announces they have reopened. I may pick up the item that was on hand just before the lockdown. An excursion! I roll into the deserted community centre parking lot and spot the curbside sign with the library phone number. I obediently dial and speak to a librarian who will bring my item out to the cart near the door—about 10 metres away from where I am parked. When she comes outside we exchange waves and smiles. She disappears into the building. This is my cue to get out of my car and walk to the cart. There waiting for me is a brown paper bag with my name on it. I notice a container of Lysol wipes and a hand sanitizer pump next to it…part of a disinfection decor? “Perhaps I should get out more often” I muse as I walk back to my car.

public places

going out for a taste of

surreal

.

.

©️2020 Ontheland