If we didn't read the news or watch TV, it would be hard to know that the world is being swept by a pandemic. The weather is great and we spend much of our time outside in nature, riding our bikes and bird watching on the nature trail. Other campers are also out and about and it is easy to fall into a conversation with our neighbors. We don't feel isolated at all, but I guess that most of the time we are. When we go to the grocery store it is busy, but I am able to buy everything that is on my list. We went to our favorite seafood store and filled the freezer with locally caught shrimp. Experience tells us it will have a vivid taste, quite distinctive from those we usually buy. Unlike at home restaurants here are still open and it all feels quite normal. We aren't trying to go to Disney World or the NASA Space Center. Then it would be clear that things have really changed. So we were taken aback when Florida friends who live on the Gulf Coast and were in our area for a motor home repair, were afraid to stop by for a visit. Where is that fine line between good sense and panic?
We're people who like to have a plan. We make one every day and every day it changes. When I watch the news I get the impulse to flee and drive home and be safe, but it won't be any safer there. In fact, until the weather improves at least a month from now, we will be housebound and far more limited. We have a motor home service appointment and a family visit on the calendar and they will find us heading to South Carolina at the end of the week. Now I am left wondering if a family visit is a good idea. Medical recommendations change daily and it's hard to know what to do. Perhaps we should return back here after our scheduled stops in SC. But no complaining. People who have unexpectedly lost their work and paychecks and medical personnel who are preparing for the worst are in our thoughts.
Today we headed out to Black Point near the national seashore and it looked like someone has pulled the plug there as well. We hardly recognized the place where we have observed the water birds weekly. It hasn't rained in about a week and the water had receded at least six inches. Stranded fish lay rotting in the sun and the mud was laced with the foot prints of animals who were fortunate enough to fly away. When the water is higher you can't tell how deep it really is and now we know that these wading birds like it up to their knees when they fish. Finally we came to a lake where the water was a bit deeper and there were many of our old friends, having a siesta in the warm sun.