“As a nation, we can’t be doing the kinds of things we were doing a few months ago.”
Dr. Anthony Fauci
When the world was normal, a walking loop around my Florida neighborhood was done for enjoyment. Today it’s done because I need a break from isolation, fresh air and exercise to help my immune system stay strong and relief from the bombardment of depressing virus news on my devices.
Not far from my front door, the walk takes me past the community pool, patio, clubhouse and gym. A short while ago, people would be swimming, lounging and working out. All of these facilities are closed now, and the county has closed public pools and even the beaches and boat launches.
As I exit toward the street through a gate, I don’t dare touch it with my hands like I used to do without even thinking about it. Instead, I elbow it open.
Heading north, the sidewalk is about ten feet wide, serpentine and shaded by palms, live oak and pine. Once in a while, a small lizard scoots underfoot. I’d often pass walkers, joggers and cyclists before, but now they’re scarcer. Cyclists whiz by fast enough that I don’t give them a second thought but when another person on foot is approaching me, I watch to see which side of the walk they edge over to and I choose the opposite edge. Neither of us wear a mask and some give a tentative greeting but we keep our six-foot distance. At times, I’ve heard bits of cell conversations as they pass, “Yes, honey, I’m doing that. Don’t worry.” Like many, they’re reaching out with technology to loved ones isolated far away.
A few hundred yards up is a canal where I sometimes see fish swimming and birds like egrets, herons and wood storks wading. These days, I’m careful not to touch the railing when I peer over the edge.
The next mile passes the gates to another housing community before trees line the grass on the road side and jungle-like bushes edge the other all the way to the next intersection. Depending on the time of day, this intersection used to have a crossing guard who’d give a friendly greeting. The nearby schools are closed now, so he’s out of a job.
A right turn takes me east and I pass a large county park on the left with a wooded walking trail and several grassy athletic fields. Soccer teams of all ages used to be there either practicing or playing official games. During games, the parking lots facing the fields would be full of cars, and the benches along the field were filled with families and friends. A playground with a jungle gym would be busy with squealing younger kids. For now, there’s a sign on the fence that says, “Field Closed” and playground use is forbidden. At first, the fields were only closed to group events, so I’d sometimes still see three or four teens kicking a ball around. My guess is they were high school players trying to stay in shape in case their cancelled season got a reprieve. Now, they can’t even do that, since all county parks have been closed, as the state parks were a week earlier.
Two schools (elementary and middle) are on the right. Before, I might see cars with parents behind the wheels lined up all down the road. They’d be waiting to pick up their kids after classes let out. School buses would be lined up in the driveways and the parking lots filled with teachers’ vehicles. The schools are closed now and teachers have prepared online curriculums for who knows how long. The latest projection is until May 1, but it may be extended.
One day about a week ago, there was a sign on the elementary school fence that said, “Digital Pickup.” Laptops were being made available for kids to borrow if they didn’t have computers at home. It’s a great idea but I wondered if those same kids would have access to WI-FI for using them. Poverty disadvantages kids in so many ways.
Reports yesterday allayed my worries. More than 30,000 have been distributed countywide and some companies are offering free internet access temporarily. The district has provided a list of potential options. In addition, for those who can’t access lessons online, the district is also offering televised classes during the school day through the district’s TV station, The Education Network.
The fence gates are now locked and the schools are shuttered but learning continues, relying in large part, on the dedication of parents who must oversee their children’s participation.
At the next corner, I turn right and south and there’s a tennis park on the left with many courts. Those were always busy and used to have crowds at times watching tournaments. Because a tennis game has a maximum of only four people, they remained open until last week. They’ve since been closed.
High hedges are on my right, then further on, line the sidewalks on both sides. They shield multi-age housing communities from passersby. Some of these communities used to be quiet during the day because kids were at school and many adults were at work. These days, they’re quiet for several reasons. Some workers are holed up in their houses telecommuting and some are lying low and worrying about finances because their jobs have been shut down. Though kids are home, they can’t play outside as carefree as they used to.
At the next corner, a right takes me west onto a street filled with once-bustling restaurants, cafes, outdoor bars and small businesses. Most of them are closed now, except some of the restaurants are offering curbside take-out service for anyone who dares to venture over there. Behind these shops is an empty golf course. All golf courses in the county were closed this past week.
At the back entrance into my own community, I turn right and pass a few dozen townhouses and a couple of ponds. When I reach home, I’ve walked a loop of almost three miles. I’ve been doing this walk with my husband most days and, up until they closed the parks, we got some variety walking in uncrowded natural areas. The question in my mind now is, Will a neighborhood walk remain possible?