Written by Sally on 18th and 19th April 2020 with later updates
Note: this is not a "normal" Jordanwalks page. We're not living in normal times. I hope that normal service will be resumed at some point in the future. This page was inspired by seeing a family of baby ducklings seconds after receiving a text from a friend and colleague to tell me that her Uncle had died, all whilst walking "Coronavirus walk 3" on Saturday 18th April. The photographs we took on this walk are here whilst the photographs taken on "Coronavirus walk 4" on Sunday 19th April are here.
Coronavirus. More than 15,000 people have now died in the UK and given that deaths in residential homes in England have not been included, that's probably an under-estimate. More than 160,000 have died across the world. Each of those deaths is a tragedy. Words like self-isolating, shielding, social distancing and PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) have entered our vocabulary. And no-one really knows how or when it will end. So far as I'm aware, I don't know anyone personally who has died, but no-one can ignore the horror of the situation and it is coming closer : several family members and friends have lost relatives (as a result of unrelated causes) and been unable to attend the funeral; colleagues (and the Prime Minister) have been seriously ill; and my sister's husband's chemotherapy has stopped. The potential horrors for Richard's Mum, who is in a residential home, don't bear thinking about.
I haven't been in to work for a month and the Open University campus is firmly closed. It's 4 weeks since we last went to our flat in Simpson and I haven't been in a motor car (or any other form of transport) since. Shopping comprises weekly visits to Tesco, with fewer food shortages than there were, but eggs, flour, tinned tomatos and pasta supplies are still limited whilst getting paracetamol remains impossible. Thankfully the supply of loo roll seems to be just about back to normal. "Non essential" shops are closed so we are buying most non-food items on line, with delivery dates weeks in advance - and unreliable (though things became easier when, against my better judgement, I relented and signed up for Amazon Prime). We have to collect my repeat prescriptions through a window at the back of the doctor's surgery and dentists, hairdressers etc are closed. Schools and nurseries are also closed, so colleagues are juggling work with childcare/home schooling. "Normal" doesn't exist any more.
But yet. Spring. The weather has been delightful and we are making good progress in the garden. Richard is doing some much needed decorating and I have started playing the piano again. And although it is tough at work trying to support colleagues, I have been received a lot of support myself, sometimes from unexpected quarters - and personally I am very comfortable working in a world where all meetings are online. Although I am missing contact with family and friends, I am loving the (unusual for us) experience of living in the same house as my husband all the time. Many are talking about the fact that we will emerge from this into a very different world; I think I'll be a different (and probably better) person.
And Life...On our daily walks over this weekend we have continued to notice the natural world in a way that is all too rare; we've seen - and sometimes heard - a wide range of wildlife including black-headed gulls, herons, ducks, swans, herons, deer plus the cultivated: horses, sheep, a peacock. And this week in particular, new growth is everywhere: calves, baby ducklings, four separate swans' nests - and the first scan photographs of our first grandchild, due in October. Amidst the tragedy, fear and anxiety, there is hope, love and life.
Updates written later. As spring progressed, so did the signs of life. We heard our first cuckoo on 26th April, whilst close to Denver Sluice on Walk 4, and we saw our first baby cygnets on 16th May, whilst we were walking along the River Great Ouse on Walk 3 (photos here) and we had the pleasure of watching them grow through the spring and summer. On Walk 3 on 25th May we saw fox cubs (photos here) and on 13th June one of the Egyptian geese on the river had a gosling (photos here). And in October, our little grandson Albert Leonard ("Bertie") was born. The difficult times continued, with my sister's husband and a colleague both dying over Christmas, but Bertie is our ray of sunshine.