Shelter in Place, Day 44: Busy-ness

San Francisco, California

Bees of all kinds are hard at work in our garden these days. I’m only just learning which kind (bumble, honey, wasp) likes which flowers and whether I’ve more luck finding them in the sunshine or the shade. Photographing bees is quite the challenge. You not only need to get the light just right, but the focus and the speed. Easiest, I find, if you pick a bee that’s gathering nectar, focus on where you think it will move next, and wait there for it to come - for a tiny, tiny second - into range. The trouble is, that even when you’re lucky enough to get a shot in focus, it turns out that bees are not really that attractive when their frenetic motion is freeze framed. It took me three days to get a shot I liked…. but that’s alright, I’ve got the time.

In these soupy, slow-mo days, our routine is fairly consistent, starting with two questions as soon as both of us are conscious: “What shall we do today?” and “What’s for dinner?” The first is in good-hearted jest, the second, dead serious. We used to plan dinner early so we could fit in a trip to the grocery store or a walk to the butcher if needed. Now we run down ideas based on what we still have and what might best occupy our day (like everyone else, our baking time has ticked up since we’ve been quarantined). John does the lion’s share of the research and the cooking. He keeps track of the grocery list in the small chance a delivery slot opens up. I spend mornings writing and checking in with family and friends. I’m out puttering in the garden at various times of day, often reshooting something I tried or noticed the day before, looking for a better light or angle, waiting for the full-fledged summer wind to settle down. Afternoons take on a dreamier quality, with political postcard writing, reading, puzzling, a little piano, until it’s time to depress ourselves with too much TV news. Dinner takes far less time to eat than it did to make but, though we’ve been side-by-side all day, we share what we’ve read, observed and learned. I love our dinner time. Evenings, we escape to television/movie land and then it’s off to books and bed.

There is something in this gentle rhythm to our days that brings a kind of peace. It’s not that we were much busier before, but the predictability, the limit to our choices under quarantine now bring calm more into focus. On most days, I’d say we are able to recognize that as a gift.

Shelter in Place, Day 43: Time Goes By

San Francisco, California

April 28, 2020, Time Goes By

Day Nine’s volunteer foxglove on the stump is doing well and showing signs of flowering. As is the one pictured here, which sprang up by the fence. It’s a wonder how much these plants have changed in a little over a month. I wasn’t sure they’d make it. 

And me? Back on Day 9 this all seemed like a very doable exercise of short duration, a challenge, a minor inconvenience, almost an adventure. The garden was peaceful and idyllic, a lovely place to hide. Now there is a woman making guttural moans from an open window in the apartment building that looms behind the shed. It sounds more like frustration than it sounds like fear or pain, but still, I hope that she’s alright. 

Now everything feels less an adventure, more a slog. Yesterday, the Bay Area declared another month of shutdown, and I’m grateful that they did. The alternative, as I’ve said before, seems all too threatening, and for us, at least, the sacrifice is small. Still, the days move on at a dreamy pace, the garden grows, and we retreat each day a little further from the world we had before this started. 

Oh, how I love the gravity-defying foxgloves, digging in wherever they may land! I can’t wait for them to open up and show us all their colors (I think I’m going to make it, too).