These are the last days of this particular lockdown.  From Sunday on we will be releasing gradually.  So Sunday we will no longer have a 1000 meter limit and can go out, and maybe even visit friends. 

These lines that open the second scene of Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”  keep returning to me, lately.

Viola:  What country, friends, is this?

Captain:  This is Illyria, lady.

Viola: And what should I do in Illyria?

Every day we take a walk in some different direction that keeps us within the limit.  Every day it is like going into another world.  When we got to the strip mall, for example, where all the shops were empty but you could buy coffee to take away, and people we sitting on the walls, the benches, sometimes even the concrete, it was incredibly eerie, as if civilization had remained but the foundations had been destroyed.  Today we crossed the street into the wealthier neighborhood and discovered new parks, houses we’ve never imagined, and trees with fruit overhanging onto the sidewalk.  Just beyond our reach. Even though I know people in this neighborhood, it all seemed so strange, so empty, so unused.

 I’m hoping tomorrow will be our last walk in the neighborhood in a long time. 

But we are not an obedient people, and it is feared the same thing will happen that happened last time.  We’re opening places up only because the population will open them up anyway, not because they should be opened.  It is indeed an illusory world.