Life in these strange times: springtime flickers on and off

The world has been shut off for what… five weeks? Six weeks? I don’t know. I’ve stopped counting. But I’m still here, still telling my story, as well as the story of my imaginary journey. I’ll focus on here for today and resume the imaginary journey tomorrow. For now, you can visualize me, having said goodbye to my visitors, sitting on a train, looking at the scenery as I travel from Tajikistan to Uzbekistan.

Here, it has been spring, sort of. One day, it’s spring, and the next day, the snow falls. It is a bizarre thing to watch through the window. It’s nearly May, and the snow flies at random times. The ground is now too soft for the snow to stick to it. But, for a short time, it looks as if the ground is covered by a bit of confectioner’s sugar, almost like a cookie. 

Then the sun peeks out and the snow is forgotten. For a while. 

I spend a lot of time looking out the window. It has been a while since I’ve gone anywhere, partly because of the pandemic and partly because of the weather. So I watch the world through the window. I see snowflakes and people walking dogs. I see delivery trucks and cars and ambulances. An ambulance stops at a nearby home. I see fire company volunteers standing outside, all with masks on. They bear the faces of courage. Waiting as paramedics go inside a house. 

A stretcher is wheeled to the ambulance. An ambulance door closes. Before long, the vehicles are gone. All is silent again.

It is the silence of sadness. 

Today, I step out for a bit, and I see that the grape hyacinths and the daffodils have bloomed. They radiate the color and joy of springtime. The season that I love the most. The season of new life and soft pastel colors. The season of days that gradually grow longer. 

There has been much sadness in my community and everywhere else, too. We really don’t understand what is happening. We need to hold onto something that oozes life and hope.

Something. Anything. Maybe a daffodil. Or a hyacinth. Or even a dandelion.

8 thoughts on “Life in these strange times: springtime flickers on and off”

  1. Or all of those flowers. Hopefully, spring will make up its mind soon, but leave the heat behind for a while.

  2. I just started taking pictures of flowers and trees in my neighborhood. They are so pretty and are a sign of hope for better things to come.


    Beautiful flowers. I miss being able to drive through the streets and neighborhoods, countryside to see the flowers.

    Hopefully soon, I'll feel like taking a drive.

  4. Nature ignores our unhappiness. The birds sing. The daffodils bloom. But this weather just won't break for either of us. Gloom, snow, then maybe after three days the sun comes out for a day, then the cycle starts again. Nature imposes its quarantine on us. I took a car ride today to a nursery (curbside pickup) 15 minutes away; it was the furthest I had traveled since around March 14. I didn't even have to pretend I was on a far away trip. Our home is exotic now. Everything has changed.

  5. I'm like you, it's like we are living the norm now but I don't even know how long it's been. Hubby and I stay busy working in the yard, our flowers are doing so good and the vegetable garden is starting to grow. Your flowers are gorgeous, I love the colors! Lia loves flowers and every time she is outside she runs to pick a "fauwer" for me, a beautiful dandelion! I feel like we just have to continue our new way of living and be thankful we are still able to move around the house or yard.

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