Shelter in Place, San Francisco, February 6, 2021
From our deck, the large acacia tree (in the background here) blocks not only much needed sun but our view to the back of the garden. We’ve been talking about bringing it down for years. Finally, this is the week that it happens. Already I’m almost looking at the tree with nostalgia. Will I miss it when it’s gone and irreplaceable? Next to surface will be my ambivalence about change - any change - and the realization that the empty space will need to be filled and things that have flourished in the tree's shade will need to be relocated. The relief of having finally acted to bring sunshine to the garden will be replaced with my anticipation - good and bad - of the work ahead. There is lots to do.
And this reminds me, of course, of the ambivalence expressed by every friend who has managed so far to get their first vaccine shot - an ambivalence I expect to feel after I get mine this afternoon. It is, of course, the first step toward something different - something freer, but quickly comes the realization that the shot itself changes nothing. We must wait for the second one, and for several weeks after that, and then for everybody else to get their shots, and so forth. I have made great effort in these past few months not to assume that any of these steps will make life go back to “normal”. There are too many variables, too many mutations, too many other problems we need to solve. I don’t want to be disappointed. But it’s hard not to think ahead to all the things we might soon be able to do. Simple things, the work and life suspended - going to the dentist, getting a mammogram, going to the farmers’ market, driving down the road, at least, to visit other vaccinated friends. Maybe family, too, some day. Will these things really come to pass? And will I feel ambivalence about returning to the ‘business’ of everyday life as much as I’ve complained about being stuck at home?
Our garden will look new and different when the tree is cut down, there’s no doubt. But how long it will take us to get used to the change and how much work lies ahead as we adjust to the sudden open space and sunshine? We’ll only know when they haul the logs away.