Rain is drizzling down, dripping and dropping in dribs and drabs outside my window. A flat repetitive, arrhythmic plop announces the meeting of raindrop to aluminum railing. A soft smack of a kiss marries raindrop to tile. A gentle patter nurses Raindrop down the gullet of Flower. Today, the wet of the Caribbean has taken over.
The Lighthouse Look Apartments sit on Lighthouse Lane, in the city of Atlantic Shores, in the parish of Christ Church, in the country of Barbados. Having graduated from quarantine at the Moonraker, Roo and I now find ourselves here. No spare surf shacks, these. Appliances are all modern, and nicer than the items I possessed back home. The internet is top shelf, and all U.S. content is available to stream. The shower has pressure. The beds have blankets. I have air conditioning and a free laundry room on-site. There is nothing here to want.
Except to leave!
As mentioned previously, Roo and I arrived just as the government announced a nation-wide lockdown. "A pause," was the marketing phrase they used, "to relax, reassess, and regroup." Originally set to expire on February 17th, the lockdown was later extended to February 28th. The same curfew of 7pm to 6am would be in effect. The same window for exercise and use of the public beaches and parks would be open in the morning. But the government decided to take the lockdown a step further, and so this weekend, the curfew went into effect on Friday at 7pm and will extend until Monday morning at 6am.
No leaving your house, for any reason (lest it be medical).
It is an odd kind of predicament.
On the one hand - the symphony of the Caribbean outside my window, brought on by the rain! The far-off sound of crashing waves! The sunshine!
On the other hand - look, but don't touch.
I am a coiled spring. I've been on this island for two weeks, and only twice have I had occasion to throw my body at the surf - I crave more! Chucking this body at sand and sun and saltwater is what I've been waiting for! To be this agonizingly close and to be stuck inside for the second consecutive week....
When the doors open, they will fly open and we will all go rushing forth like headwaters of a river. The dam will burst with socialization because we love it and need it and miss it. This illustrates the difficulty of containing covid-19.
For now, it is push-ups on the patio, and socializing in the driveway with my neighbors, and plenty of naps.
The time will come.
For now, we're locked in.
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