By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

T S Eliot – The Waste Land

I hit a wall last night. I’ve managed to keep myself busy and feeling positive during this last few weeks under lockdown, but last night I ran into a wall of sadness. The trigger, the thing that opened the valve and let out what had been building up for some time, was simply seeing pictures on a sharing app of the various people I love trying to make the best of a holiday weekend while under lockdown. All of us trying to enjoy our time off and the lovely weather, but separate from each other, when normally this would have been a time for us to get together,

This morning things seem a lot better. I am very fortunate: I have a family, a home, a garden, enough food to eat and I enjoy good health. But for so many other people loneliness, anxiety, frustration and money worries have become a part of daily life. The government talks about repairing the economy once this crisis is over, but I wonder how long it will take to repair so many shattered lives.

Picture of Black Brook running alongside Wat’s Dyke ©Bobby Seal