Day 8072

#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 80

Adrift for a week, I am slowly emerging back into my routine, reminding myself to work on my projects instead of wasting too much time killing time, avoiding work, avoiding too much scrutiny into myself. This scrutiny though is different than the one from the early days of lockdown. Back then, my entire being was raw. Everything was different, scary, and unknown. It was easy to keep track of my emotions and actions because they were loud. Three months later, they are not.

#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 75

The day unfolds quietly between episodes of Columbo, games of Scrabble, and an early dinner. The dishes dried and tidied, I return to the living room and grab the book about trees. I join my partner on the sofa and open it. Roots and branches are spread through the first few pages, their shapes fluids, almost moving. I turn the pages slowly and begin to read about the secret lives of trees as the title puts it.

Day 7472

#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 74

I grab some paper from the bookcase, refill my fountain pen, and begin to write. First I write to my nephew, his letter sprawled on the desk by my side. The blue ink, so familiar from my own school days, is sprawling across the pages. Each letter is well defined with just a hint of change, my nephew finding his own hand away from calligraphic letters he was taught to use a couple of years ago.