It’s the not knowing.

It’s not necessarily bad ... it’s just different. 

When you look back at photos of all you’ve done ( and we do so much ) it’s the museums and culture, the normality of using public transport. Going out for a meal or coffee. No masks, no hand gel . 

Cat cafes, Christmas carols in the square all packed together. Cinemas and bowling alleys. Camping and festivals. The kids making fleeting friendships wild and free. 

Litter picks and protests, celebrations and the mundane supermarket trips.

Trick or treat, fireworks and bonfires.

Birthday parties and holidays. Climbing, roller skating, brownies .......

And the worry. The worry of ill that you don’t understand that spreads hand to hand. 

Some days are so good when we reconnect with nature. When there’s no late back from work because work is in the home. When you can binge watch and eat and laugh and drink and smile. 

But you don’t know what tomorrow holds.

When the panic shopping might start again, when the lockdown might recommence. 

When your loved ones might be alone once more.

The uncertainty of education of preservation.

Holding hands and hugging and smiling and dancing and being.

And not knowing.

It’s the not knowing.