Isn’t Life Strange

Spring sunshine pours through our windows, the first warmth of the season alternating with blasts of cold wind coming in off the North Sea. Music plays, books get read, the TV is on more than usual. We are filling time, trying not to dwell on the fact that we would today have been in Hoi An, taking evening strolls along its quaint lantern-lit streets.

Each day the saved internet sites update us with the growing death toll across the world, the TV news has just one subject every single broadcast, an unprecedented worldwide horror story unfolds before our eyes. We tune in to our Prime Minister’s daily briefings, obeying closely and sticking strictly to the rules imposed; in the time since the lockdown was imposed we have ventured out only to buy food and for our once daily walk. Other walkers stand back or pass at a safe distance, shoppers keep polite distances, and, as if scared of any interaction, stay silent and avoid eye contact. 

The Spring sun shines, birds sing, cats prowl, but seldom little else is normal, though those reminders of normality at least enrich our walks; any other time, these walks would be a delight. It feels a little different when they are the only escape outdoors.

But now, in this surreal and scarcely believable scenario, when the only alternative is a risk we are not going to take, it’s easy to bring your thoughts back to a sensible place. We may be bored, we may be disappointed, but we are keeping ourselves and each other safe, as those terrifying statistics move ever upwards, all too regular painful reminders of the devastating picture unfolding around the world. 

One analyst predicted earlier this week that by the time we reach the end of April, every single person in the UK will know someone personally who has been killed by the virus. That is a terrifying thought which, once heard, is difficult to shift from your mind.

Ideas

We all have to come up with ideas now, in order to occupy our minds. As we take our daily strolls in the lovely countryside which we are lucky enough to have on our doorstep, we realise that we’ve never seen a local walk guidebook. So, as we walk now, we dictate the route; once we’ve charted about ten walks, we’ll do a bit of desktop publishing and, when situation allows, leave copies of our new booklets in local shops and pubs, and post them on the internet.

Lastly, Michaela has given me an early birthday present in the shape of a weighty tome, “1,001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die”, 2018 version, the most recently published. For any music buff, this book is an absolute gem, providing a commentary on each of those albums, plus a brief orientation, placing the music, and the artist, in their own time. It’s arranged chronologically, from the 1950s to the present day, eloquently capturing the spirit of the time and packed with detail. Losing myself in it is a current addiction. What’s more, growing my “must have” music wish list is equally addictive, despite my existing collection of over 11,000 tracks. This book is a MUST for music fans.

And just now, I don’t know what I’d do without it.