There are times when every day seems the same. When the Massachusetts governor first gave the order to wear a mask, stay six feet apart, and then stay home, I expected my days to be drawn-out copies one after the other. The variety would have to come from reading or grocery shopping. I was wrong. I have come to know my neighborhood in new ways.
I walk three times a day, twice with the dog and once alone for a long walk throughout the neighborhood. I've been doing this for years so I didn't expect to see anything different with the lockdown. But my neighbors have responded to the Covid-19 directives by prodding their imaginations. Now, every day when I walk, I find something new.
It began with the Door to Door project started by a group of parents to engage their home-bound children. Doors sprouted all sorts of decorations to announce spring. I wandered around taking photographs, admiring the quirky creativity of the kids in my area. The doors project was following by another one that took me a while to figure out, which came when I found an explanation a few days ago.
This second project is the Kindness Rocks Project, for which a child or adult decorates a rock or writes an encouraging word and then deposits it somewhere in the city. I've been finding them for several weeks, and I found two boxes of them with little signs inviting me to take or leave one, as I chose.
The third project began outside my city but has been taken up here. On my walk I look for teddy bears sitting in a window, ostensibly waving to a child passing by. I've spotted a number of bears singly and in groups as well as a giant teddy bear sitting on a porch chair.
The fourth project is one that comes out each spring but I think I'm seeing more of it, perhaps the adults responsible inspired by the other efforts. In almost every garden I see now there is at least one sculpture--a rabbit, squirrel, cat, dog, octopus (yes, an octopus), various kinds of birds especially owls, and more. Spotting these means taking a closer look at what's hidden under the young hostas or daffodils or tulips.
The last project is ever-changing. These are the signs of thank you to the many men and women who have been caring for patients with Covid-19, delivering the mail, picking up the trash, responding to emergency calls, delivering meals or medications. These hand-drawn or giant-sized cards pop up for a while and then are replaced with new ones.
We may not be able to stop and chat as we did in previous months, but folks in this area have found other ways to stay in touch with each other as well as strangers. This may be the new normal--I certainly hope so--but if nothing else it keeps me alert and attentive on my walk, and grateful I live where I do.
