Nature’s Power

In the beginning, they said the pandemic would be the perfect opportunity to return to nature. For a while, I think they were right. People were outside embracing nature again. Flowers were blooming, school was over, the sun was shining. It was glorious. The pandemic wasn’t as scary because people had something other than other people to rely on. When you weren’t working, you were outside. Maybe you were taking your dogs for a walk during the evening or you were playing basketball in your driveway. You allowed the beauty of every day to put a smile on your face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You and your sisters worked on projects around the house. It was a great way to focus on something other than the fear building inside everyone. Keeping busy is what you do best. Your oldest sister is a frontline worker who could only come home every once in a while, so you cherished the moments you had with her. The three of you made the best out of the difficult situation. There was never a dull moment – you laughed and joked around, but you also made mistakes and helped each other.

Getting in the car and driving for hours became a weekly occurrence with the people you were quarantined with. You could drive down long, windy country roads and let the beauty of nature remind you that everything was going to be okay.

You were able to watch the sunset in all of its glory and smile at all the wonder around you. Nothing could beat those late-night drives or the people you shared them with. You were free from the confines of a hectic end-of-the-term where your school and professors were basically clueless as to how to teach you the rest of the course material. There was a lot going on and it was a very stressful time. So, when you watched the sunset and had a nice time with your loved ones, you could let your mind wander and your worries dissipate. You didn’t have to think about the daily increase in numbers or the people ignoring the quarantine to make dangerous and irresponsible life choices. You didn’t even have to think about your mom being high-risk because she was safe right beside you belting out the lyrics to whatever song was on the radio. You were able to find peace in the quarantine.

Then autumn arrived and it was even better. You didn’t even know you needed to be reminded of the glory of fall and the ever-changing world. The colours astounded you and you knew that nothing could compare to nature. You and your mom took your dogs for walks and embraced the magnificence that was fall. You and your sisters made piles of leaves to jump in, something you hadn’t done since you were little. It was just as glorious as summer. Sure, schoolwork had started to pile up, but you didn’t let it get to you. You embraced it, acknowledged that it would lead you to something you loved, and continued on with enjoying the changing seasons. Nothing could tear you down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, winter is here, even though it’s not December 21st. If you’re not getting your vehicle stuck in your driveway or sliding down an icy sidewalk, you’re stuck inside away from people and life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The harsh realities of the pandemic have made themselves known. For a while, the numbers were under control and people were making smart choices. Now, the numbers are higher than they ever have been and it’s like people have just decided the pandemic is over. You know better. You know that people are dying and it’s not the time to live carelessly. But. You’re lonely. You don’t see your family anymore. You don’t see anyone anymore. Sure, video chatting is great. But it’s just not the same. You miss the rush of people around you and laughing loudly without a care in the world. You miss not being scared when going to Walmart for your weekly grocery run.

You just miss life.

The world around you is still.

Nothing makes sense.

People make bad choices.

You sit at your desk or lay in your bed

and watch the world move slowly around you.

 

You worry

constantly.

Is she okay?

Is he okay?

Are they okay?

Will it ever end?

 

The end of the year is looming.

But will anything be any different?

No, it will all be the same.

Maybe it will be worse.

You don’t know.

 

The uncertainty scares you the most.

The people scare you too.

The powerful ones that make the big

decisions.

But also

the regular ones who make

decisions that seem small

but

effect everyone.

 

Do people even

think?

This isn’t a joke.

Do they understand?

You don’t know

and

that scares you.

 

Winter is usually your favourite time of year. Especially Christmas. You don’t have to work. You don’t have to go to school. You can breathe. You and your sisters go snowmobiling and have snowball fights. You spend hours of every day outside having fun. But what will it be like this year? Will you even be able to go home? You hope so. Your flights are booked, and your hopes are high. But is it safe? Is it worth risking your mom’s life? When you call her, all she talks about is how excited she is to see you again. Everyone says everything will be okay. But will it really? You don’t know.

Christmas. They say it’s magical. That it changes lives. But what about during a pandemic? I don’t doubt it will change lives, but will those changes be for the better? Lockdowns have started all over the world again. They help. So, why isn’t it happening everywhere? Humans are losing. But is it even a battle? Is this the end? Fear builds. Stupidity astounds. Decisions need to be made. For the greater good. Isn’t that what they say? The people who have the power to make decisions can change everything, just like Christmas.

 

Christmas.
Xmas –
remove Christ
and enjoy the rest.
Right                   ?

Trees in every house.
Tall
Proud
Lonely.
Lights cradle them,
tinsel tickles them.
Loneliness fades
a
w
a
y
with the twinkling lights
of hope.

Families gather
and spread cheer.
Watch movies
and play in the snow.

Garland lines every

Lights shine
from rooves
and trees
and e y e s.

No doubt
in anyone’s
mind
of the beauty
of Christmas.

The walls of your bedroom close in. They tell you to go home. Or maybe you tell yourself that. School is killing you. Thirteen more school days, but the end seems so far. You have so many assignments due every week. You stare at your computer for hours and hours and hours. Your eyes burn. Your back aches. You learn concepts that make no sense but are supposed to. You have professors that don’t help you and one that’s amazing. You don’t understand anything. But still, you keep going. You plug out assignments one after the other. Giving them everything you have until your brain gives up for the day. Then you get up and do it all over again. It would be better if you could go outside. If you could embrace the gloomy days and not let them make your day worse. But you can’t because you don’t have time. You go outside to take the garbage out. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. You go back inside and stare at your computer for many more hours. Your phone dings with a notification and you look at it. Oh, just another update on Canada’s record-breaking numbers for the day. What a shock. You put your phone down and go back to your computer.

You no longer have any concept of time. The sunsets at four o’clock. The days mean nothing except for due dates. Those mean everything. You hear your roommate talking in the kitchen. You put your earbuds in and cringe at the pain. You keep them in anyway and blast your music. You need to focus. Pandemic or not, you need your degree. You’ve made it this far.

Your phone dings again. You look at it and see that your sister sent a picture to your family group chat. It’s a collage she made of your dogs.

It’s exactly what you didn’t know you needed. You smile and save the picture to your phone. The collage brings back memories of previous winters. You and your dogs playing in the snow. You throwing snowballs at them that they’d catch and eat. Or driving your snowmobile with your dogs chasing close behind. Or the first snowfall of every year, at least the one you were home for, where you would get all bundled up and take your dogs outside. The four of you would run around and try to catch snowflakes on your tongues. Your dogs would knock you down and steal your hat or mitts. You would chase them around the yard, laughing without restraint.

Everything becomes clear. So much of your life revolves around nature, not just since the pandemic. The pandemic just reminded you of the connection. Winter is here, Christmas is coming, and you’re going home. The pandemic hasn’t won yet.