Not After, but In-Between

Monday Morning Musings:

Not after, but in-between–
the seasons fold gold into green,
the sun emerges, or stays unseen
between, behind, beyond, but true.

Can we linger here awhile?
Jackets on and off, a smile
at pumpkins and the deer—miles
to go, and much to fear

from demagogues and misinformation—
the destruction of our world and nation.
Yet, we don our masks and leave the station—
a celebration, we’re still here.

We plant flowers and bulbs—is it a trope
to say we’re planting hope?
That we’ll not slide from the slippery slope
because this is not after, but in-between—

still, even after winters of despair,
spring comes, with petrichor in the air
and robins’ song, searching and aware
of being between—here and there.

And we on our pale blue dot
look for light, our shot, our spot, our ifs–or not.

A Cloudy Sunrise

I feel like we really are in this in-between place. The pandemic is not over, and fanatics are still going strong. I’m beginning to feel like we’re in the late 1850s in the US or the 1930s in Germany—but with better technology.

Still–we went to the theater for the first time since the pandemic began. We saw Minor Character: Six Translations of Uncle Vanya at the Same Time, which was truly as the Wilma Theater blurb says: “a joyful and music-filled comedic kaleidoscope. A band of actors come together to perform a warm-hearted yet bittersweet look at love, longing, and the limitations of language.” The Wilma Theater required proof of vaccination, IDs, and masks. We had assigned seats with empty seats left around us, and the theater kept at half capacity. They also updated their HVAC system. So, we felt safe—at least as much as we can in these times. We also took Patco for the first time since the pandemic. It was OK, though some people did not wear masks despite the notices and announcements. Also this weekend, we pretended to be Derrick and Jackie Knight and visited a nursery to buy some plants.

50 thoughts on “Not After, but In-Between

  1. Wonderful, as always. So happy you and Doug went to the theatre (I got tickets for December 3rd at the Centaur – my favourite – for my two friends and me and I cannot wait!)
    Happy Monday, my friend!

    • Thank you very much, Dale. I couldn’t seem to get this one started today!
      I’m glad you have theater tickets, too. We actually have season subscriptions for three different theaters in Philadelphia. 🤣 We have one more streaming play that we’ll be watching soon.

      • I get it. Boy, do I ever! 😉
        Oh yes. I am a member of this theatre and, while I didn’t get season tickets (yet), I do get the notifications and will probably be attending everything!
        I am so happy for you as I know you are even bigger fans of theatre than I am …. well, maybe not… 😉

      • I believe it. I was at the point where I would go alone, if I had to. Then invited one friend and another wanted in and voila. I love that we have this. And for sure, having two kids involved in the theatre helped.

  2. I was thinking today how I’m so tired of all the people deliberately prolonging this misery. And I wonder: will I ever feel safe again?

    But we always have the natural world as balm. (K)

  3. Merril, I don’t think that it is “a trope
    to say we’re planting hope. . . .”
    I like that you used that awesome word “petrichor” here once again. Nature is a balm and so is the thought that 2022 may bring better news.

    Thanks for the theatre update. I’m glad you actually got to see a live performance at long last. 😀

    • Thank you very much, Marian.
      Nature is a balm. I’m not sure that 2022 will bring better news though. There are lots of people bent on destruction. 😔

      It was great to see a live theater performance!

  4. Oh, the water, the sky, the lone bird skimming!

    Your musings are right on point about living in the in-between. I’m beginning to think that the in-between is going to be permanent, as if we’re stuck in the doldrums.

  5. “at pumpkins and the deer” …. of “cabbages and kings”
    This in between you write of is cruel, in some ways. Life is not back to normal. Nothing is normal.
    Insanity eats sanity. Man eats oysters.
    I find this post profound, dear Merril. Thank you!

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