Spring in the wind

Sunrise starting to peak...

Sitting with the window open, washer tumbling listening as the eerie strains of an accordion's melody accompanies the breeze dancing around the clothes hanging out to dry. The list of groceries sits filled out, the online order made, and plans for homework and other activities for the week have been laid out.

With the coming spring comes the renewed motivation and hope that often slowly makes it's way back in as seasonal affective disorder drips away into the darkness to wait until the days shorten again. On top of that, though Korea is experiencing it's highest cases of COVID yet, Koreans are raising up with the spring, enjoying a relaxation in COVID policies and procedures that hasn't been seen since early 2020. And while there has been no declaration of a total return to normalcy, most Koreans look forward to upcoming months when the new South Korean president begins his term and supposedly ushers in the end of remaining COVID policies. 

Church is up and running again, though most congregations find themselves going back online for a 2-3 week period as COVID has too many families quarantined for it to be feasible to hold face to face meetings. 

Walking the streets more and more faces are making an appearance. People forgetting to pull masks up from their chins, others taking longer to put them back on from drinking their coffees, or no sign of a mask at all. The fear that hummed through the streets at the beginning of the pandemic is dying, as more and more people begin living. The contrast is strange, as for the first time in 2 years, people are starting to regard each other without suspicion. It's an ironic benefit to having such a contagious strain work it's way through such a heavily populate community. There's no longer a question of "if" someone will get it, just a question of "when". And with nothing that anyone's doing being able to stop or slow it, the thief in the night has been caught with his lights on, and most are realizing they can take him on. 

More people talk to each other on the streets, the restaurant owners are chattier, the baristas and bartenders friendlier and more relaxed. With nothing to scan, no more temperature machines, phone numbers to call, or vaccine passes to check, the owner/customer relationship is considerably less strained. 

Students are relaxed, some coming back from extended COVID stays as they took turns quarantining. Chatting openly with their friends about an experience that only a few months ago would have been kept relatively hushed. The energy is higher, and while it's not explicitly stated, stories of birthday parties where friends are allowed to come are starting to make their way around the school. Going off the logic that if Ellie's family all had COVID, and so did Evan's, there's really no point in avoiding each other.

The transition is odd for everyone, no one quite sure what the rules are anymore. Including the people in charge of making them. So slowly but surely, people are tentatively reaching out, brushing fingers against the veil between life as it's been and life as it could be. 

So while the accordion plays outside the window, and spring breezes blow away the last grips of winter, hope begins it's own warming effect on the cold bite that's slowly releasing it's 2 year grip. 

-Shayla