We’ve just been brought a present. It’s not wrapped in paper. It doesn’t even have a bow and, thankfully, it isn’t still squeaking.
This is the second mouse of the quarantine and the biggest so far. It’s the size of my hand. Mip (our cat) is exceptionally proud of it. Paws (the other cat) is currently sat on top of the empty extra-large pizza box that we were given as a gift by the takeaway for ordering from them yesterday.
It’s been a…strange week.
She’s not been too interested in bringing us mice yet. Paws has decided that this is a week to stay inside and admire the view from the warmth of the living room.
She can actually _leave the house_ at _any point of the day or night_…and she doesn’t.
I’m famous for how little I go out. I used to only buy enough food for one day at a time to make sure that I had to go out before all this began. But now…not being able to go out…
I can see blue sky and everything!
We don’t have a back garden and there’s no balcony attached to our red-brick terrace. We’re in the heart of the midlands in the UK and down the road from one of the largest hospitals in the area. We have a funeral parlour over the road from us and, gradually, we’ve seen more and more people looking in through the window. Two hearses left it today and when they pulled onto the main road, they were flanked, both front and back, by ASDA delivery trucks. I won’t ever know if it was a very odd coincidence or if it was an honour guard for two employees. I’ll never know if they were victims of the virus or if it was some other awful accident. All I’ll ever know of those lives is what I saw out of my living room window.
The road outside my flat still looks busy, but I have been assured that if you go anywhere that isn’t the main road, it’s like a ghost town.
I can’t help wondering if it’s the lack of human activity outside that’s enabled this year’s mice to grow so large. Our youngest cat is loving being able to explore. I have seen him bouncing over hedges and climbing fences with a wonderful expression of what could only be described as excitement when I watch him from my bedroom window.
The world for us is closing in, but for the animals and plants around us…it’s opening up.
Mip’s hunting grounds have suddenly expanded and he’s loving it. I’ve heard more birds than ever before and I even saw a fox the other night.
Tragedy is taking our loved ones from us, but what harm have we been doing to the world around us all this time? How many Sparrowhawks have had their nests plundered by poachers, or fox-cubs have lost their mothers because of a careless driver?
Nature is returning and with it a glory that has long been forgotten to us.
If one good thing can come from this horror, I hope that it can be the realisation that there is more to life than consumption. I hope that we see – both the positive and the negative – impact that we can have upon the world and choose to make a change.
Life moves on towards its inevitable conclusion; let’s make sure that our mark is one of positivity and healthy progress, shall we? I know that when my time comes, I want to say that I made a difference.
Sophie, signing out.