A Different Kind of Spring

A Different Kind of Spring

by

Deborah Fagan Carpenter

Spring really is my favorite time of year. After the gray skies of the long winter months, I can hardly wait for the little fern fiddleheads and the hostas to pop out of the ground. Early in the season, the ornamental fruit trees fill the landscape with beautiful white flowers, followed by the bright pink of the actual fruit trees, like the crabapple tree in my own yard. There is no green like the spring green of the budding trees, and there are unlimited colors of azalea and iris blooms—especially in the South. There is a foxes den very near my house, and from time to time in the spring, I see either the mother or the father out and about, probably fetching food for their cubs. Spring is an amazing new beginning for nature, and it’s a time that awakens a feeling of renewal, anticipation, and hope.

This is a very different kind of spring. The expectation of things to come and the enthusiasm that usually accompanies the season has been replaced with a profound fear of the unknown, fear of deprivation,  fear of isolation,  fear of job loss,  fear of death. Panic has replaced joy. This is a very different kind of spring.

Students and teachers on spring break have no idea when, or even if, they will resume school this year. People who travel for work or pleasure are not sure when they will be able to return home—afraid that they will be stranded in another state or even another country. In fact, travel at all by air is in jeopardy. Gatherings of more than ten people, including church services, concerts, major events, business meetings, movie theatres, live TV shows, sports events, even, AA meetings are being canceled. Restaurants and bars in cities everywhere are closing their doors. Leaders of countries have ordered people to shelter in place, and, where they aren’t actually ordered to, leaders are “urging” us to stay home, except for going to the grocery or pharmacy. Frighteningly, the shelves of grocery stores and pharmacies are often empty. This is a very different kind of spring.

As of the writing of this article, there have been 13,000 deaths worldwide, mostly in Italy and China, and that number increases daily. 4,825 deaths have occurred in Italy alone, with nearly 793 in one 24 hour period. The Italian army was called in to not only ensure that the citizens comply with the isolation order, but to transport the dead to crematoriums because the cemeteries are overwhelmed. There are not enough respirators, masks, or Coronavirus test kits in this country to supply the hospitals, let alone the general public, and healthcare workers are at considerable risk. Businesses are in danger of experiencing devastating effects, the stock market is suffering unprecedented losses, and a recession is looming. This is a very different kind of spring.

The events of this spring could linger into summer, into fall, into winter—and yes, maybe into next spring. No one, anywhere in the world, can truthfully answer the questions of millions about when or how the Covid 19 horror show will end. The disease that has terrorized the world as a whole does not care one bit whether it infects, black, white, brown, red, conservative, liberal, male, female, American, Canadian, Chinese, Italian, African, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, or Hindu. We are, all of us in the world, in this catastrophe together. It is a global crisis. The fear, the panic, and the scramble to find an immunization and a cure is a worldwide problem. International cooperation and sharing of information and resources crucial if we are to survive the nightmare, and a coming-together of our leadership imperative. No man is an island. This is a very different kind of spring.

The human spirit is remarkable and resilient, and for every lizard that crawls out from under a rock to wreak havoc during such a tragedy, there are many more empathetic, compassionate, caring, and loving individuals who are helping each other and their communities. Food banks are desperately pushing to make sure that none of the clients who regularly depend upon them, go without a meal, and schools are continuing to supply lunches for students who count on them. Restaurants are donating food, and some notable chefs are closing their restaurants temporarily to the public and using them as community kitchens to feed the needy. Some businesses are continuing to pay their laid-off employees. Musicians are presenting online concerts; museums are putting their collections online; online campaigns are underway to encourage people to buy goods or gift cards from restaurants, bakeries, and coffee shops. All over the world, neighbors have sing-alongs from their balconies or out of their open windows. People are reaching out to each other and are remaining upbeat and hopeful during this fearful time. This is a very different kind of spring.

Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if, during the following weeks and months of this dilemma, our own leaders could work with each other and with other leaders across the globe to bring quick and decisive solutions to the ever-growing Covid 19 devastation? Wouldn’t it be beautiful if an awareness of the need for universal understanding, cooperation, sharing, love, and hope could be the renewal that this spring brings? This is a very different kind of spring.

Fern Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

Store Shelf Photo: Brad Frost