It’s a beautiful bank holiday Monday in my part of the world.
I can look across a couple of fields to the Atlantic Ocean and a few kilometres up the road is a lovely, long, golden beach that I love to walk.
Sadly, today – as in the past few weeks – I must skip my beach walk.
You see, although I am fit and just aching to stretch my limbs away from home, I am one of thousands in Ireland that are cocooned.
I am luckier than most, however! I don’t live in the eastern part of the country, which currently is the centre of the coronavirus crisis in Ireland.
The garden I potter around occasionally is on a remote part of the western coast which, fortunately, is at the bottom end of the emergency statistics.
Other less fortunate “cocooners” live in cramped quarters in towns and cities in the east and struggle to maintain the social distance required to fend off the disease.
Cocoons are the new political and medical description for the infirm and elderly most at risk from coronavirus.
I, like many others, am in the elderly section of the group.
Some of us are also harbouring underlying medical conditions which occasionally require appointments at the clinic or nearest hospital.
But, while we’re still able to walk and garden, we refuse to be recognised as infirm.
We would love to - and are quite capable of - stroll a couple of kilometres from our homes or drive a little further to enjoy the scenery and just wave from our vehicles to the few younger members of the Irish population who are allowed wander on to the roads.
Over-70 means we can’t do that while the crisis exists.
Wonder what the situation would be if Leo or the two Simons heading our battle against Covid-19 were over 70?
There’s no point in going there! That’s a digression which is unnecessary right now!
The fact is the emergency regulation exists, and we over 70 reluctantly accept that our isolation contributes to beating the virus and is for our own safety.
And those of us cocooned out west on a nice day like this can step into the fresh air outside, look across at the sea or the mountains, and dream happy thoughts.
Like I can see across Donegal Bay towards Sliabh Liag and let my thoughts wander to my favourite drive.
It brings me through Killybegs where at times I would stop off at the Seafood Shack or the waterfront Ahoy Cafe for best chowder and fish and chips in Ireland.
I would wander into the Gaeltacht back roads, past Muckross Head and Sex and City star Sarah Jessica Parker’s holiday home, out to Glencolmcille folk village, back over the wild beauty of Glengesh Pass and on towards the fabulous little town of Ardara.
Just writing about it has induced a longing.
I can’t wait for the day to arrive when I can once more do that drive.
So, please, everybody, do as we are instructed, no matter how difficult.
It’s the only way to ensure we can fulfil our dreams, like the one I just had when writing this!
