Quaran-Time
The World Right In Front of Me.
No one’s a stranger to these strange times. Most of us have been instructed or strongly recommended to “Stay Home” in efforts to reduce the risk of propagation of the pandemic Coronavirus. May it be successful in attenuation and elimination of the spread to protect our loved ones and ourselves.
Over the past two years, I’ve practiced physical therapy as a traveling contract worker. I typically work thirteen-week contracts at PT clinics or hospitals all across the country. Contracts exist to fill maternity leaves, fill a pertinent need to see patients at growing clinics, and to treat patients in rural communities where it’s hard to land permanent clinicians. But in this season contract workers, being more expensive, tend to get laid off first. I’ve had traveling friends get laid off from jobs while living thousands of miles away from home without warning. Luckily for me, I was in between contracts when all the calls and opportunities fell silent or disappeared altogether, and therefore, I’ve found myself living with my parents in my childhood home.
I’ve discovered a love - no, a need - in the past two years for the mountains.
For those who’ve followed along the past two years, you know that I absolutely loved my nine months in Oregon last year, and I’ve been dreaming about those mountains out west nearly every night since. In contrast, Atlanta has no cascade peaks, no alpenglow, no snow-capped anything. In fact, it’s difficult to find any place with a vantage point to see the sun rise or set. So, instead of landscapes - and with the instructions to stay home, I’ve challenged myself to capture the light right here in my hometown and in my parents’ yard.
In strange or scary times, I hope these images embody hope for you - spring is still springing, and the sun continues to rise each morning. There is hope, light in the darkness.
I plan to continue editing this post throughout our time in social distancing/quarantine, so hopefully you can check back and continue to be inspired by the beauty in the small things and small moments. :)
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”
Update 4/2/2020
Update 4/5/20:
Update 4/7/2020
Update 4/12/20: The Small Wild.
It’s been two weeks since this post began. Over the past thirteen days, I’ve continued to challenge myself to take at least one photo per day. Whether or not I’ve succeeded the challenge is somewhat irrelevant; what I’ve won is what I’ve learned.
Despite the fact that there are nearly a hundred and fifty houses in a few square miles that make up my family’s neighborhood, it’s full of wildlife - small wildlife. I’ve been fascinated by the diversity in it. I’ve learned that the song sparrows like to sing in the dogwood tree on the front left corner of the house while the eastern bluebirds like to hunt insects in the grass from their perches along the power lines coursing from the house to the telephone pole. The cardinals prefer a series of trees along the driveway and into the the central backyard, as well as the backdoor neighbors’ shed roof. There’s a pair of eastern towhees that play along the fence and low hanging limbs in the southeast corner of the backyard. The house finches, as their name implies, chase each other around the gutters of both our and our neighbors’ houses, as well as the in the tops of the Crete myrtles lining the driveway. I know of a blue jay nest off the northeast corner of the backyard, but only rarely see the birds themselves - only when they defend their nests from the occasional harassment of squirrels. As the sun begins to drop into the treeline to the west in the late afternoon, the cooing of the mourning doves can be heard softly over the breeze. At twilight over the past four or five days, I’ve seen or heard what I believe is a barred owl who prowls this corner of the neighborhood, though I’ve yet to catch him with the camera.
In the way of plants and trees, there are too many to count - far more than I know, but there’s been such color in the neighborhood these past two weeks. The dogwoods were first to bloom - white or pink, four petaled flowers. As some of you know, today ought to be the final day of the Masters golf tournament just a couple hours southeast of here - and it shows: the azalea’s have been on full display in white, purple, pink, magenta, and coral. In the past three or four days, the rosebushes have made enormous changes - from buds to full bloom all around the cul-de-sac.
I hope you’ve been enjoying this series, as I’ve enjoyed attending to these things you read and see here. It’s helped keep me sane, and given me a task to complete each day. It’s helped me keep a rhythm. I realize soon I’ll have to change my course, seek new angles or chase a new idea or task to keep myself fresh… unless I get a good chance to catch that owl…
Update 4/15/20:
