Staycation. Who coined the term, it matters not. A week away from regularity and routines has been one of the best of my life. With my share of travel stamped in my now-expired passport, I long since lost interest in global excursions when a few humans decided to turn airplanes into weapons.
Now, I think some of the same sorts of broken people in a beautiful world have acted so as to attack us by means of our very own bodies as vectors of a novel virus. Living our life to the fullest is still possible. We make different, needful choices.
Stay home and close to home.
We have had the most refreshing staycation, enjoying one another on a day-trip to an isolated spot. We saw five other humans and four dogs. We were not close enough to speak, much less convey a virus to anyone else.
We climbed a waterfall, gave and received lessons in fly-fishing, cooked supper over a camp stove, and our youngest learned about the freedom and responsibility of leaving no trace. We skipped rocks, found wildflowers and explored new curves of a creek that reshaped itself after a recent storm. We made memories. All of this happened with less than a tank of gas.
We cooked from our garden, slowly. We made meals for grandparents in isolation. We sewed new seeds ready for another round of growing. We canned dill pickles.
Kids taught each other card games: War, Trash and Pass the Trash. We stayed up late to catch lightning bugs. We watched the Barter’s production of “The Wizard of Oz” at the Moonlite. We slept late but not too late.
We were busy, yet we rested.
How are you getting away, even while staying put?
Longing to breathe deeply and to walk with others as they seek to meet their longings, C.A. Rollins writes and invites you to reflect with her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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