A lovely morning, with some pastel clouds suggesting that some weather may take place later. I walked Rough Fields and some streets, and was able to keep my distance on a quiet Sunday morning. Later this morning I hope to go to zoom church, having discovered how I can add some GB to my broadband allowance for a month at a time. Anyway, the church thing will be a novelty, and I anticipate awkwardness at some points.
The Psalm today mentions the valley of death’s shadow. It doesn’t feel like that here, on a sunny morning. I am at a time of life when this pandemic has less impact. I’m done with work, so don’t risk a loss of income. There’s one or two local shops, and some others nearby that do delivery. I’m not old or infirm enough to have to stay away from all human contact. But through ties of family and friendship, through the media, I feel the disturbance, the hurt and he fear. I feel I ought to be doing something, but it’s not clear what or how.
No great surprise to find that people who are already poor and marginalised are suffering more. For instance, if your work is precarious and your pay poor, you will go in whatever the consequences. And once the disease gets into an informal settlement, it’ll be hard to stop it.