I don't mind that this thing is rusty, or that the ground underneath is a swamp.I love the woods and the outdoors, and I'm used to being alone, and don't care if people probably think I'm some dirty homeless girl, as I'm usually mud stained. This is my way of life.
I had a great day. Got myself lost in the woods a bit on a long ride to get to the park from there, which actually is in the opposite direction from home. I probably rode 25 miles in all today. I saw a few people on horseback in the woods, and many others cycling and hiking, and I'm glad they're still coming out, I even felt a sense of friendly solidarity between them all: "We're the ones who decided not to be bullied into staying at home."
At the park I met two friends again, one at a time - two human ones, besides my many little furry friends there. Basically, I have nothing to complain about right now, even with my gym closed.
And yet, back home and especially at night, that sense of threat is washing over me again. I didn't expect that my gym was actually going to close until it happened, pretty much without warning. What else might happen?
No, I'm not worried about the virus itself, but about "the powers that be," and what more tyranny they might be plotting next. And I can't shake the feeling of being a scapegoat: "It's people like you who keep stubbornly insisting on their freedom who have caused this virus to emerge and to spread."
Not me alone, but "people like me." The free thinkers, the rebels, the ones who refuse to be herded like sheep.
That's why I've been riding to the park every day again lately, although it costs me a fortune (in carrots) and I'm pretty broke. But I need the company and affection now that I get in return from my sweet little familiars.
Bumpy |
Sleepy-Eyes |