The rain poured through the downspout near my bedroom window Sunday night. It’s a sound like low soft thunder, and it continued for hours, until it grew light through the window on the second morning of the spring time-change. Then came the sun, ambitious and bright, illuminating the green sprouts in the yard, the wet newspaper, the damp streets, an upstart azalea by the door, budding pink.
Over the weekend, we’d gone into the garden and clipped away the brown stems and leaves and withered branches of last summer’s flowers, finding the fresh growth emerging from beneath, the annual return of the perennials, the Earth renewing itself as it always does.
There were casualties. February’s deep freeze took out our venerable oregano plant. The senior rosemary bush could yet make it but appears to be on life support and may have to go to assisted living. The thyme, gnarled and ancient, is brown and crispy at its tips, but when I cut an interior branch, I find green. Thyme marches on.
The Monday paper is full of sad basketball news: The Tigers miss the dance again; the Grizzlies blow a big lead. I don’t care much. Do you? Maybe it’s just that sports seem sort of pointless and irrelevant — the shortened seasons, the missed games, the empty arenas, the sideline masks. The magic isn’t there. The Big Dance? Meh. More like a junior high sock-hop. (Do they still have sock-hops? Don’t answer.)
There are signs of new life everywhere. Each day brings news of more friends and family members who’ve gotten the COVID vaccine. As an ancient and gnarled human who’s now gotten both shots, I can attest that it is a relief that’s hard to put into words after a year of constraints and fears and relative isolation. A springtime of the soul.
On Sunday afternoon, the patios of Midtown were beginning to look like patios again. Slider Inn, the restaurants of Cooper-Young, and the outdoor dining spaces in Overton Square were filled. Railgarten was stuffed to overflowing with kids, parents, volleyballers, cornholers (sorry), even a band. Outdoors feels safer to a lot of people these days, and that’s a good thing. (Just remember to respect your server and put on a mask when they approach.)
Nationally, the news is also getting better. President Biden stated that he thinks there will be enough vaccine available that all adult Americans will be able to get a shot by May 1st. That’s six weeks, if you’re counting. The catch, of course, is that many adult Americans will choose not to get a shot, most of them because they’re suffering from another illness — a viral strain of ignorance and fear spread by absurd internet conspiracy theories and the willful dispensing of misinformation by right-wing media.
Getting a COVID vaccination is all part of the “plandemic” — a genetically engineered bioweapon from China. It’s a scheme by Bill Gates to make billions off the sale of the vaccine. Dr. Fauci is an evil genius who created the virus as a bioweapon to reduce the population and undermine Donald Trump. The vaccine is a plan to put microchips into our bodies so we can be tracked anywhere.
I didn’t make these up. The AP recently reported on 19 conspiracy theories that Americans (and others around the world) are using as a rationale to avoid getting the vaccine. They are brought to you by the same people who told you masks were worthless and COVID is no worse than the flu.
Meanwhile, ICUs in Paris and elsewhere are filling back up with victims of COVID variants that have worse symptoms and poorer mortality outcomes than the original virus. The good news is that it appears the vaccine protects you, even against the new stuff. That’s why the goal should be to get every person who wants a shot inoculated as soon as possible. Those who refuse will either get lucky as a result of the rest of us taking responsibility or they will get the disease and learn the hard way.
The lessons of spring are obvious. There are perennials and there are annuals — fresh green shoots and dead brown branches. Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Bruce VanWyngarden
brucev@memphisflyer.com
