A Day of Rest

It's only been a little over three weeks ago since Womad. It would have been my 15th, but we decided to stop going, as it had become just too big and crowded for us. I February I was starting to regret my decision, but by the time March came, I was already worrying about covid19, and fully expected womad to be called off. Last year womad continued under the black cloud of the Christchurch mass shootings, and this year they continued despite the pandemic.

As the pandemic news kept coming, my love of music left me: No more music festivals, no more concerts, and every familiar song said, 'never again'. I couldn't listen to music without crying, let alone sing along or dance. Then Maggie, my daughter-in-law, started posting a song from her dad each day - and of course, Pete is a similar age to me, so his choices sit very well with me. After a few days of tears I started humming along, and enjoying them again.

Today I have been just so incredibly tired. All the worry, anxiety, panic, fear, all just washed away in a wave of exhaustion, and I spent the afternoon listening to mostly new-to-me music, reading and dozing, while Luna the Cat guarded the house from the chooks. I did go for a walk this evening, to the end of the road and back, slowly, and needing to use my walking stick, but the fresh air was lovely and the moon tonight is glorious. But best of all, music is back.