Lockdown Fall Versus Lockdown Spring
How facing lockdown again in England feels different
The UK government has spoken. Come November 5 there will be a countrywide lockdown again. No more unessential shopping, dining, gathering, travel. Stay in unless you absolutely need to go out. We’ve been there before, we know the drill, but there is a big difference between lockdown fall and lockdown spring. We’ve lost our lockdown innocence.
Spring surprise versus fall fatalism
In the spring it was a total shock to the system that things could just stop. Life as we know it could go on pause, suspended animation as it were, while we all waited to see what would happen with this new global threat.
In the fall we have been struggling with a changing and uncertain lifestyle for seven months now. We don’t know what will happen and we’ve almost given up trying to guess.
Spring hunker down versus fall fatigue
In the spring we accepted that this was needed. Stay home to save the NHS. We are all in this together. We gathered our children close, everyone’s life upended. We wanted to be safe. We wanted our children to stay healthy.
In the fall we are told to stay home but send our children off to school each day. We want them to be in school, to learn, to grow, but we fear them getting sick. We fear them spreading sickness to their teachers, to us, to grandparents.
Spring growing light versus fall gathering dark
In the spring each day there was a little more light. The sun shone a bit brighter. As we headed out for our daily allotted dose of exercise we could see the new buds. We weren’t sure where the virus was going and growing but we could see the earth renewing around us.
In the fall the dark comes quickly and each day is a little darker than the day before. Flu season is coming, and cold, wet dark days are ahead. We crunch dead leaves underfoot when we walk outside.
Spring lambs versus fall fallow fields
In the spring new life surrounded us. In the countryside, we saw new lambs and calves and watched them grow. We saw the ducklings and goslings swim in a raggedy line following their parents. Day by day they grew bigger hitting that ungainly teenage awkwardness in time with our lockdown fatigue growing.
In the fall we see the fallow fields. Barren. Empty.
But farmers know.
New life will come to these fields again. The land needs its rest. It is far from dead. It is resting, rejuvenating, repairing, recuperating.
New life will come to England too. It is dark now. But Spring will come again.
