Self isolation. Social distancing. Hiding out.
Whichever term you prefer, I left Jacksonville last week and moved to my farm.
Surrounded by 100 acres should provide a safe cushion until we see how this plays out.
Yes, I’m blessed to have such place to escape.
And no, I haven’t started talking to the walls yet.
In fact, each sunrise and the beginning of a new day humbles and reminds me of the beauty of God’s creation even as this time is filled with uncertainty.
With first light comes a symphony of bird songs — mourning doves, ground doves, titmice, jays, crows — accompanied by the drumming of woodpeckers.
Soon the cardinals chime in, their songs clear as a bell and strong.
The mornings are still cool, and spring punctuates the beauty of the farm.
The flowers of the wild dogwoods are a startling white. The peach trees are painted with pink flowers as are the native crab apple trees.
Each year, deep in the woods, a small wild azalea bursts into bright orange flowers. This year was no exception.
The tea olive trees are filled with sweet smelling flowers as is my pineapple orange tree, although the buds are few this year most likely because of two late freezes.
Each day is special.
While the world goes mad, nature keeps playing its eternal tune, almost pleading with us not to forget to dance no matter how troubled the times.