Sounds a bit dramatic doesn’t it? Well it’s much more true than I’d ever like to wish.
The rebel that I am not, I went for a walk the day before shielding was paused.
Yep shielding has paused, on the week that cases start to rise here in England UK. But we won’t go into that or this post will turn into something totally not what I aim it to be.
So I went for a walk. And yes that’s what I call it even though no walking is done by myself. It’s a phrase though isn’t it, not just a verb, a doing word as my teacher always used to remind me. I don’t do the walking, but I do go on them. I go on strolls too. This was probably more of a stroll if we are being specific. It was slow paced and in a graveyard. You probably guessed that from the title too.
I live in a town. Not a big one but not a tiny one, and I live right in the centre. Turn one way and you come to a supermarket, the local chippy and typical English high street dotted with inaccessible shops and way too many estate agents. Turn the other way and you pass some houses before you get to a dual carriageway.
Between the houses and the main roads is a graveyard. The one to which I walked.
I hadn’t been anywhere other than a necessary appointment since March and I wanted to head somewhere quiet where people wouldn’t make me enraged and infuriated. I figured a graveyard could be the place.
I cannot cross the pavement quickly at any moment, or step out of the way when people head towards me. There aren’t many dropped curbs around here and the pavements are too narrow to cross paths with another being without getting uncomfortably close.
Uncomfortably close means something different right now (as do the words face mask, which I discovered when discussing a birthday gift for someone. I got the rejuvenating kind).
I’m one for personal space at the best of times, and thought maybe if anything was to change after this pandemic then when I emerged from my cave, others would have gained that same respect of space that I have. It seems that’s not always the case from the tales I’m told.
I didn’t pass a soul (pun intended) on the way, nor on my wander around. I knew the local residents wouldn’t bother me.
I wore a mask during my whole trip. I understand wearing a mask outdoors isn’t essential, but puts me at ease a little. Like a tiny bit. Also, I don’t need to fake smile at those that are getting too close.
Covid does not move, it needs a host and that host is you.
During shielding the phrase ‘are you brave enough yet’ was mentioned to me and others, by those that are returning to a life almost pre lockdown normal.
Bravery isn’t a form of defence or immunity. It’s a case of risk and if you’re willing to take it. I haven’t been, and I’m still not, much.
There are things I’d like to do. Have lunch with friends, go to the cinema, get a proper haircut. I’ve missed out on so many gigs I can’t even remember. But there’s next month and next year and Netflix and Zoom and WhatsApp and homemade cheese on toast. None of them are the real thing, but they’re alternatives that will make do for now until the risk reaches acceptable to me, not that I become brave enough.
And anyway, I quite enjoyed my stroll around the graveyard. Maybe they’ll become my social life for now, or maybe graveyards will be my new thing.
I’ve not had the opportunity for many Wheelescapades access reviews lately. But I have realised that even graveyards aren’t accessible.
The walk towards the entrance was stunning yet sprinkled with single. I tried to stick to the thinner areas where some stones had warn away or been pushed to the sides. Swerving my way down the track I must have appeared to have missed my morning brew.
Once through the gates areas of grass were divided up with shingle walkways. Grass is slightly easier on the wheels and neck, although I can’t always foresee the bumps and holes, at least I don’t get the quicksand effect that shingle provides. Much of the grass had small curbs up on to it, though, so I’d have to look out for drops where I could gain access.
Enjoying my venture so much, I returned to my graveyard pals the next day. I do hope to branch out a little with my solitude adventures, however the wilderness isn’t often equipped to deal with my wheels, and my bones aren’t equipped to deal with that.
Have you ventured out far? Do you have any recommendations of places to go that are accessible yet peaceful?
Credit for the awesome title goes to Fleur Perry.