Day 42 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Harbinger?

You'd think that with this turbulent weather, we'd be sad today, but no! We may even dance in the rain if the stormy sky opens! And we think the skies will clear soon - that's how optimistic we feel. Yes, the news is good. And best of all - you are here to share it with us. There are good omens- harbingers of better times come. The signs are there, if we  look for them.

View of Perpignan - perhaps we can shop in the city next month!

 Day 42 - The alarm played the soft guitar notes of one of my favorite songs and I woke up smiling. Y was still sleeping - or pretending to - so I rolled up the shutters and looked out. The sky was grey. But I was still smiling.

Maternité Suisse in Elne last April

It might not have been  sunny, but at least it wasn't raining. "Réveilles toi, mon amour!" I said. (Wake up, my love!) He blinked against the daylight and snuggled back into the pillow with the remark that as I had set my alarm five minutes earlier than the day before, he still had five more minutes. Whatever. I kept smiling.


Why? Not only because the warmth of the dreary morning told me the cold of winter had finally made its exit. It was because the last thing I'd read before going to bed was that we'd had 612 new cases of Covid-19 yesterday in France and 242 deaths. I know, it's still grim and the worldwide number of recorded cases is now more than 3,000,000. But the daily report of a drop in new cases and deaths here is really good news. The number is half of what it was four days ago. May this be the harbinger of things to come! In medieval times, a harbinger was someone who ran ahead of the troops or the royal company to find lodgings and alert the population to look sharp! These days we use it to mean an omen or an indication of what is to come. Hopefully, the peak has passed and there is every chance we are on track for de-confinement two weeks from today.

So, with a heart brimming with hope, I went to the other side of the house and opened the shutters. The cloudy sky was filled with dozens of large hirondelles, those lovely brown barn swallows, swooping and soaring in a way that echoed the happiness I felt. It seemed that spring

A lone hirondelle top right

had finally arrived. I tried to capture the scene with my phone camera but the best I could manage was one bird in a single frame of the many pictures I took. They fly seriously fast! 

It is common in Europe and other northern countries to rejoice at the return of these fair-weather visitors and the French saying is, "Une hirondelle ne fait pas le printemps." (One swallow does not make the Springtime - just as we say in English, "One swallow does not make a Summer.") And I know it is a proverb to remind us to be prudent. We should not draw conclusions based on a single piece of evidence. That the numbers have fallen during the week is only one sign. There are bound to be ups and downs in the numbers during the days to come.  The last four days both the numbers have fallen. For us to be let out of confinement, the trend must continue for the next two weeks. But it still gives us hope!

In my village, I always see the smaller hirondelles - house swallows - from my terrace at the

I've been keeping track
And for the last four days
the numbers have fallen.

start of April. I love to wake in the morning and hear the chirping conversations from their little mud nests beneath the eves of the village houses. Some years, I have even heard the flocks arrive as the sounds of their tiny cries wash across the rooftops like a wave of joy.  I do know that they are the harbingers of the warm months to come.

This spring, I don't know if they arrived in my village from their winter homes in Africa on schedule or if they were late. That's because I decided to "Shelter in Place" with the man that I love, my French partner, Y. So instead of being confined in a tiny village with almost no amenities, I chose to stay with him in Argelès-sur-mer. Here the streets are wider, there is a pharmacy, a doctor's office, a creamery (which sells cheese and eggs), and a couple of épiceries (small grocery stores), as well as several bakeries that have been open during this time. It has made it easier to feel at ease with the idea of not going out as we used to do.

We ate breakfast and the first email I read said the hardware store was opening today. TODAY! Well, that is wonderful news. We took an "exercise" walk around the village and delighted in

The wisteria is even prettier in real life!

the blue sky when it peeped through. The flowers are getting more and more beautiful. The river has begun to return to it's normal level. The barriers on the ford are down and I saw a car drive across in triumph. Well, it seemed like triumph to me. The driver probably just thought, "Très bien, pas besoin de faire le tour du village juste pour traverser la rivière." (very good, no need to drive all the way around the village just to cross the river.)

 Tuesday night we will learn if things are going to schedule and I'll let you know on Wednesday what we hear. Meanwhile, I'm smiling a lot more than I have for a while. And that is because we are filled with hope. The hope that the light at the end of the tunnel is not going to be the harbinger of a train wreck of the second wave coming our way. Just kidding... well, you know.

And so, on day 42, we feel hopeful. I'm a fan of Douglas Adams who explained to us quite eloquently in the four volumes of his famous trilogy THHGTTG, that 42 was the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. By the way - the book turned 42 in March - perhaps another good sign. And so, as

It's April - the vineyards are leafing out.

we write to you, dear friends, we send you good news. It seems the tide has turned. We will all hope that soon, the good news is reported from your corner of the world as well. 

A demain, nos amis! (Until tomorrow, our friends!)

Link to Day 43