As I sit at my desk in my WFH office (otherwise known as my bedroom), I am listening to my
teenage daughter singing, practicing for a choir concert that will surely not happen next month; the last of her high school singing career. Her voice has always been a source of joy for me, from when she would sing to the birds in the backyard, her three-year-old self perched in the dogwood tree, to the fun tunes her a cappella group performed in downtown Princeton over the holidays. I love that she has a choir family that she video chats regularly; that she and music are inseparable. As with all the things we are mourning during this crisis, the loss of the musical culmination of her high school years makes hearing her practice for it all the more poignant. But this, like all the other beauty we ran past every day in our hurry to get to work or get home or get dinner on the table, is made more beautiful because we are now all stopped in our tracks – forced to hear the music, see the flowers and the trees blooming, feel the sun on our faces (if it will ever appear.) The silver lining to the impact of this terrible scourge is we are literally all forced to savor life, the little moments we rushed by not a month ago.
The birdsong seems to be more plentiful, sweeter sounding and more varied than I remember. Spring flower colors seem more vibrant. Tree buds appear more varied in color and texture. The rabbits and squirrels are bolder than usual, too.
This Spring, more than any other, presents us so much to savor during this grim and frightening time. The sounds of birdsong (and daughter song), the scent of blooming flowers and the trees budding provide the hopeful, joyful foil to the death and sickness raging through our society.
I wish you the hope and joy that Spring brings, and may you remain in good health so you can savor this world-wide time-out.