You may have heard of the coronacoaster. One day, you’re coping well with the trials of the pandemic, finding astonishing silver linings, rejoicing in the spirit of beautiful humanity, sunshine and birdsong. The next day, you’re mourning things that are crumbling daily, feeling sad for the dormant, bereft, angry and concerned you might cry yourself inside out in between biscuits! Yep. All normal.
Early in the lockdown I needed something. Something to help me see that life would tick on. Something to give me a beacon to the future. I bought caterpillars. I buy them every year and they arrive in special packaging marked ‘Fragile! Open immediately!”. They transition from caterpillar to chrysalid to butterfly. We give them a home, a space to curl up, lock in, go inward, be safe. And when they are ready to emerge, they unfurl, hungry, ready to be free. We feed them before showing them the breeze.
I bought two sets, due to arrive far apart from each other, so I can enjoy this cyclical process twice before the season ends. And then I forgot all about it. Until now. My little lockdown posse are now in the building! What novelty in these days of separation. I’m chuffed to bits! We’re going to be a team, together and silent.
Then, soon, they will strip off their chrysalis and we’ll have a garden party! Life goes on.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.
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