This too, Shall Pass

So here we are in the midst of the largest global pandemic to occur in the last century. I, for one, am still having difficulty wrapping my mind around it! School is cancelled for the foreseeable future and the governor has ordered all but essential businesses be closed. Luckily, real estate was deemed an essential industry so we continue to work, albeit in a much more careful and remote way than we’ve ever conducted business in the past. Our home in Morgantown has become our “Decontamination Zone” where my husband and I go after work to all but burn the clothes we were wearing and shower so that we can be sure to not carry any droplets that may have landed on us throughout the course of the day back to our hideout on Snaggy Mountain.

I have never been more thankful for our Alpine Lake home than I am right now. Our boys are able to explore outdoors, play on the beach, fly kites, build forts, ride bikes, and go on “bear hunts” without having to worry about the COVID 19 virus that is sweeping through the world. They are acutely aware of it; virus was never part of my 3-year-old’s vocabulary until the last couple of weeks but for them, it’s like a tragedy happening somewhere else. For the time being, that remains true.

While so many of our much-loved gatherings at Alpine Lake are cancelled or on the brink of cancellation, the community remains very connected. Members are communicating and recipe-sharing on the Facebook page, there’s a twice weekly video meeting for residents so they can still see and hear one another, and our friends and neighbors are out walking the streets and trails. I’ve always loved seeing so many familiar faces upon walking out the door, but now more than ever, it brings an extra layer of comfort.

The gates of the resort have been closed to the public but some things remain the same. Groups of kayaks are still launched into the lake with filled with laughing residents enjoying the first signs of spring; This year they stay at least 6 feet apart. The tennis nets have been hung and we’ve been able to work on getting our forehands back after the winter hiatus. Sandcastles are under construction and fish are being caught after the lake opened for the season a few days ago.

Doorstep care packages have become the love language of the community. Cookies, baked breads, farm-fresh eggs, and bottles of wine are showing up on front porches in place of dinner parties, cookouts, and evenings around the fireplace with friends. Rocks painted with cute faces and messages of hope can be easily found on walks or in your driveway.

This virus has upended our normal lives, but there is still much beauty on this detour.