I am trying to remember what my street sounded like two weeks ago. Walking my dog this morning it was strange to turn the corner of a typically busy corner and hear no cars moving down the road. Usually on a Monday morning there would be cars honking, people walking, buses taking patrons to work, and in the distance the constant whirl of traffic on the freeway.
I live in Los Angeles, and it’s strange to walk outside my door and hear birds chirping in the still silence of the morning. One of the things I love the most is camping in the woods. It enables me to get out of the city and hear nature. That is what I heard this morning living in a very busy city, surrounded by people most of whom are still hunkering down in their homes.
One sound I keep hearing however that isn’t quite so beautiful are sirens. They run up and down the streets, a blare of sound bringing some seriously ominous tidings. I keep looking out my window to the sun skies of southern California and think: Is it really the apocalypse? I know it’s not, but there are times when it really feels like it is.
The birds chirping out my window, and the sun blazing into my living room as I sit here typing away and listening to my pug snore; I don’t feel like the end is near. I do however feel an undercurrent of foreboding. Like when you watch a TV show and they play the sound mix low, in a slow cadence building with every minute. You know something is going to happen, the girl that walked into the darken hall is about to be attacked or the man that was trying to avoid the cops is going to turn the corner and see them standing there waiting for him.
Right now, I walk outside into the blissful sunny day and I think, ‘the monsters I am hiding from are invisible and I won’t know I was attacked until it’s already too late.’ The biggest fear I have is that my body may not be as strong as I thought it was, perhaps the level of sickness I catch will be stronger than those it barely effected.
There is so much fear wrapped into my day to day, and at the same time I haven’t been this relieved to just be at home in YEARS. Walking around my neighborhood with my husband and my dog, avoiding touching everything and washing my hands like a maniac everytime I walk back into my apartment isn’t a bad trade off right now. It could be worse, things could still get worse. The sirens play their song and the under current slow beat of terror continues to play just beneath our notice.
I hope it gets better. I hope we do as they say and ‘flatten the curve.’ I hope we continue to see brave people walk into the fire of this madness, and I hope more than anything else that those not asked to fight the flames will stay home and do what they can to just not add fodder to the fire.
Birds chirping, the air smells clean, brilliant cerulean skies. This is probably the most beautiful apocalypse ever, and yet it comes with a heaping dose of worry. I hope you all stay safe, and more than anything I hope we can all get back to the rush and bustle of normal soon.
