Living in the time of Covid-19 has meant more family walks on nearby prairies — Pioneers Park, Nine Mile, Spring Creek Prairie. We have to get out of the house some way, but walking the concrete streets of our suburban development is not nearly enough to satiate our hunger for birds and butterflies.
Even though our 1/4 acre lot is 90% plants, it’s not large enough to get lost in. Or is it? I’m walking the gardens more than is typical and various times of day — the light and the life change so suddenly hour to hour, from gold to washed out sun to bronze, from bumble bees in the early morning to butterflies and wasps by noon, back to butterflies and then moths come dinner, then fireflies after sunset.
If anything, I’m noticing smaller things in my gardens now and finding more work I’d like to do to improve the beds, even if I don’t have the time as a designer, writer, and father to an energetic toddler. Some day. Even the plans pull me through uncertainty — more Liatris here, more stone paths there, trim that tree, fix that bench.
Covid-19 hasn’t kept me from nature, but it’s reminded me of why nature is so important to defend, and that by giving it room to breathe I’m protecting my family and my community, healing us all together a little at a time.
