Day 25 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Connected

Salut les amis! (Hi friends!)  How different our modern day plague is compared to those that scourged the continent over the centuries that came before ours! We are not truly isolated. I'm writing this to you from the south of France and it opens on screens around the world.  Your messages to us arrive in a matter of minutes.  We are connected in a way that is almost magic!

The French flag projected on the Matterhorn.

Day 25 - The morning started out hazy and lazy. My French partner, Y, went out for a magazine before breakfast. I read my emails. The one from Zermatt was both sad and yet uplifting. The annual acoustic festival has been cancelled but they hadn't forgotten us. The photos of projections on the Matterhorn were lovely. You can see others here: Light is Hope . Long after we'd finished eating, we sat at the kitchen table reading the news. In the "what planet are these folks on?" category were stories about people who don't really get the message about confinement.  

A few days ago, a young man decided to drive from Perpignan to Spain to buy cigarettes because they are cheaper there. At the border, gendarmes enforcing the shut down turned him back. Unimpressed by this, he decided to hike. It got late. He became lost, fell, and was badly injured by brambles. To add to his misery, he managed to fall into a river. It's cold up in the mountains. His phone still worked so he called for help. The gendarmes came with a helicopter hoist to rescue him as he was suffering from exhaustion and hypothermia by that time.  They saved his life. Not only did he not save money on his tobacco habit, he was fined for breaking quarantine. But you see, France is not draconian. They took him home. I don't know if  I would have been that kind.

The periphery road around Paris had police check points to stop people from leaving for an Easter holiday.  It seems that these bright folks not only didn't understand quarantine, but they thought the villages and towns of the countryside would be happy to have them stream out from the confines of the city where there are many more cases of the illness.  Right. I get that they'd

A Pigeon! Well, I'm home
what else is there to photograph?

like to escape but seriously?  Do I want them bringing it here?  NON!  Et - Merci, les gendarmes.  Sorry, dudes.  This is horrible version of musical chairs - the pandemic edition - and the music in France stopped on March 17th.  Wherever you were on that day is where you have to ride out this storm. Yeah, I'm mean that way. Wear your masks and wash your hands.

 Then there were stories to break our hearts. It seems our country is reaching the peak of the epidemic. At least we pray it is so. The numbers from yesterday spiked from 541 deaths in France on Wednesday to over 1,300 on Thursday.  At least the fatalities in Italy and Spain had

stayed about the same for each day. Then came the horrifying images of the mass burials in New York.  The news was bad.  I looked at my French partner, Y, and said, "Je vais faire mes exercices." Yes, it was time for my daily work out.  And also time to disconnect for a while.  Airplane mode.
  
Once I'd burned my calories and revved up my spirits, I was ready to join Y on the sunny terrace. I answered some emails and read my friends posts on social media.  I gave Y a thumbs up on his post and a moment later he looked over and smiled at me.  We are a very connected couple. Makes sense  - we met on an internet dating site.

Y told me, "I spoke with the newsagent this morning and she says we can read digital copies of some magazines free on our devices since we are members of the library."  I said, |"Cool,"  which is easy because it's the same in French as English.  He said, "Yes, but I can't remember

A view of the Alberes from
the upstairs window.

what site she told me."  So, I finished the last opened my computer and started searching.  It took a while.  I thought I had found it but it turned out that it wasn't a site but an app.  It was noon and I realized that I'd better get our meal together. 

I took the phone with me into the kitchen as set things up.  While the food warmed, I got the app installed, entered my library card number - Presto!  Access to books, films, music and current magazines.  I texted Y, "Here is the link.  Follow the instructions and install the app."  

I could hear the ping of his phone out on the terrace.  I sent the link and heard the second ping.  He sent me the thumbs up and wrote, "Après déjeuner!" (after lunch) I smiled at our texts. Friends find it funny that we sometimes text one another at the cafés.  But, as I said, we met that way so it seems natural to us.  A few minutes later I resisted the temptation to text him again and called

And then I noticed -
Ohh! Another pigeon!

out, "A table!" (French for "To Table" but really it's like saying "Come and get it!" or more politely, "The Meal is Served.")

We ate and watched Notre Dame begin the celebration of  Easter weekend on TV.  It was quite moving both to see and to hear. The camera moved across the shining glass of the windows and showed us an empty cathedral, except for the seven people who gave the service. I am not a catholic and yet I felt the emotion as the Archbishop, Michel Aupetit, returned the wreath he had saved last year from the burning building. The rendition we watched of Ave Maria is on YouTube now.  The rendition of the violinist, Renaud Capuçon, is also beautiful. If you'd like to see the whole Good Friday service as it was streamed to the world, the replay is also online here:  Vénération de la Sainte Couronne d'épines à Notre-Dame de Paris.

Then Y opened his phone and installed the app. He said with affection, "Mais tu n'as pas cherché pour Corone comme tout le monde, Rohbeen, tu as cherché pour moi!" (You weren't surfing for news on the virus, you were doing a search for me!")  "Bien-sûr, mon cheri, nous sommes connectés!"  We washed the dished and then returned to the terrace.

The sun has done it's job and it is now obligatory to open the parasol to avoid getting burned.  I've set up the computer and all my notes.  Y is reading and drinking coffee. In a little while, I'll get to work on the kid's book.  It's coming along fine!  And maybe later there will be time for music. I'm loving my jazz piano lessons. Tonight's dinner will be a vegetable cobbler and so Y and I will work together to prepare it.  But right now, it's finally one of the nicest moments of the day.  The moment when I get to write to you.  And this is us - connected.  I really love living in this magic world thanks to you.  We are a kind of family.  

And so, in the midst of this sorrow, there is joy. The joy of sharing. Keep yourself strong with hope

That's the message. We got it.
We're working on it.

and the connection that we all share now. We're thinking of you and doing the tiny part we can do in this crisis. We're staying home.  And we want you to stay safe too.  

A demain, tous le monde! (Until tomorrow everyone!)
Link to Day 26