There was something in the air the other night that just seemed different. It wasn’t the scent of the freshly spread mulch. It wasn’t the flowers, and thankfully, it wasn’t something one of my dogs recently deposited in the backyard. No, it wasn’t a smell at all. It was a sound, the sound of kids joyfully playing as they ran carefree through a warm spring night. I forgot how much I missed that sound, and how great it would be to hear it again.
This time last spring, we were tucked into our bunkers, whatever form of bunker worked for you. Was it just one family, or a group of 3-4 from around the block? Whatever it was, the feeling wasn’t carefree. Sure, there may have been kids running past your front door, and they may have been making the same sounds, but it wasn’t the same. The confusion and fear of what was around the corner sucked a lot of the joy from the air, and the playing sounds of children didn’t quite have that same ring. Last night, that true sound returned. I had always heard it in past years, but it blended into the background like a well placed soundtrack in a film. You knew it was there, but it wasn’t the sound of the show. That sound was buried beneath the stars and supporting cast. Last night, it was my headliner. Please give a very warm welcome to the sound of spring and innocence. I gave it a 5 star review, a must see/hear.
The last year plus has shown the best and sadly worst of humanity. The doctors, nurses, first responders and others who stepped into the ring against an opponent they had never seen before and knew very little about, they were the good. The rest of us were instructed to sit back, be patient, and sacrifice for humanity and ourselves . The rest of us didn’t do that great of a job. The mental stress of the pandemic sprinkled with a tremendously contentious election, add in some civil unrest and the polarization of every newsworthy issue has demonstrated how fragile community can be. Hatred and cancellation of others became our stay at home pastime while compassion and respect for our neighbor dropped off the cliff. Sure, I saw a lot of neighborly love and support during these months, but that was topped by empty shelves of toilet paper and last week’s hoarding of gas. I saw angry videos of people berating store clerks over wearing masks. I saw the verbal shredding of medical experts while they spread their knowledge. It was really bad, and I know you saw it too.
The light switch won’t get flipped overnight as (hopefully) we near the end of this awful year plus long mess, and life will not be the same afterwards. The pandemic will leave a scar. It has changed us all whether you sat idly by as loved ones died or just sat alone in an apartment as the days slowly dripped past. We will all carry an added weight that will take some time to shed. Some will do it quickly and are walking around today with bright smiles on their faces. Others will need more time. Me, I fall somewhere in between. That is what made the sounds of spring coming from a boisterous group of junior high school girls so refreshing. Little things like that just hit me. The sounds and smells of what we had before and hopefully soon will be having more of again.
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