Notes on the Grippe

Being an accounting of the recent and continuing pandemic and its various circumstances, from the perspective of an inhabitant of the regions lately called the Lost Quarter. Dates unknown.

Day Eight Hundred Twenty Eight

A rainy June in these parts, so welcome after the drought and heat of last year. For three days we had a torrential, almost tropical rain that combined with the snow melt in the mountains to threaten flooding. Nine years ago there was a massive flood at just this time of year after similar rains. It swallowed much of downtown and whole blocks in neighbourhoods along the river. The damage was incredible. With that event still fresh in the minds of so many there was a flurry of preparations as soon as the storms were forecast. In the years since the great flood there has also been considerable mitigation efforts, building up banks and establishing berms and the like. All of this seems to have paid off for there was little in the way of flooding.

The two rivers that pass through the city are still high and muddy, their currents swelling and rushing. More rain is forecast in the next few days and there is still snow in the mountains with our late spring so we are not out of danger just yet. As I write this it is another cloudy and humid day – I cannot remember so many overcast days in these parts – that promises rain. Soon the farmers will be complaining there has been too much.

Lately I have found myself thinking how fortunate we are to live in these parts. The news has been so unrelentingly grim here and everywhere that it has been easy to focus only on the faults in our lives. To be sure there are still many things I would change, which has true of everyone, everywhere for all time. What surprises me is how often I find myself marvelling at something that a few months ago I would have taken no notice of. These are the same views and streets that were all that was available to us for two straight years. But now that we have gone elsewhere and seen how others live and come back I am seeing it all in a new light.

It helps as well that the people have returned to the streets this summer. Everyone is out and everyone wants to be out, to go places and do things. There is an energy that has been absent. Even in those times in the last two years when restrictions were limited and people were free to go about their lives, we all did so under a shadow. That shadow seems absent now even with the Dread Lord still present. We have faced him and know we shall not be defeated.

Notes on the Grippe

Being an accounting of the recent and continuing pandemic and its various circumstances, from the perspective of an inhabitant of the regions lately called the Lost Quarter. Dates unknown.

Day Eight Hundred Fourteen

Last week my love and I journeyed to the capital of these Dominions, by reputation a sleepy town filled with government workers. It is also the place where protesters occupied the streets outside the parliament a few short months ago spouting conspiracy theories and demanding an end to inoculation requirements. I was there for work but still managed to see much of the area that was taken over during that cold winter interlude. Now the streets seemed barely recognizable, crowded with tourists and people just going about their days.

A handful of straggling protesters remained in front of the parliament buildings. They waved flags, some of which I did not even recognize, and tried to sell merchandise to passersby. From what I could see they were entirely given over to conspiracies about the World Economic Forum, Q and all the rest that seem to be proliferating in the wake of the seismic changes that came about with the arrival of the Dread Lord Grippe Reborn. We shall be living in the aftermath of the devastation he brought about for a long while.

The capital was a lovely place to spend a few days. We toured the parliament buildings and wandered along the canal and the river. The days were warm and humid, the trees and flowers lush. It felt like summer and quite different from these parts where everything is still far behind because of the late snows.

We returned in time to attend a street festival down the road from where we live. Throngs of people were out to look at the wares for sale and eat sausages and pierogis. It felt like summer truly, as it has not these last two years. I dread to say it feels normal, for I’ve lost all sense of what that even would be now, but it does truly feel like a return of something we had lost.