I miss the quiet of lockdown. I'm staying at home because my seaside town is overrun with people.

Apparently, when rehabilitated primates are taken to be released back into the wild, they can take time to climb out of their cages.  Initially reluctant to leave their safe place and familiar carers, patience can be needed while they take brave steps back into the wild.   Caution is finally overcome by the desire to explore, tempted by their once familiar habitat and space to roam free.

I'm not sure I'm ready to take those brave steps back out into the world as England starts to ease its lockdown.  I am peeping out of my lockdown "cave" in the middle of a mini heatwave and I don't want to venture out.  I can manage my normal walk and then I'm glad to arrive back into the sanctuary of my home.  How can anyone do this adjustment so quickly?  It all feels far too rapid for my sloth like pace of adapting to change.

Because outside is no longer my quiet, deserted beach with a handful of walkers giving comfortable social distance.  I am no longer noticing the incredible peace and quiet afforded by the lack of cars.  Our little seaside lane full of cyclists and walkers, is now having to make way for all the traffic.  And I feel like sobbing.  Why do we have to ruin the peacefulness of our nature sanctuary just because it is sunny?  Yesterday, it felt chaotic here.  I just want to wrap my little shingle beach with all its breeding birds in my arms and apologise for the intrusion.

I am not the only one sharing concerns about the impact of easing lockdown on seaside towns.  Councils around the country are urging people NOT to travel to the beach or nature reserves to avoid crowding.  Our town even made it onto a report on Arabic news about the potential problem of easing lockdown.  But while our Prime Minister is saying it's fine to drive to these places, we are being given mixed messages.  It's bad timing to ease a country's lockdown just before a heatwave in this way.  We risk spreading infection in crowded streets/beaches.  The queue to the fish and chip shop last night was 100 metres long we have heard.   And I feel once again like a simmering volcano ready to explode to protect my beach, my community.

I feel like writing a huge banner across the beach that says, "follow social distancing rules or please stay at home".  Is it only me who thinks about public toilets and the potential risk if hundreds of people are all using the same facilities?  Ten days ago before lockdown was eased, I felt so blessed living here where nearly all the residents are keeping safe distances.  Yesterday on my walk, I saw a  number of groups of people not following government advice.  It is difficult to just ignore it and enjoy my walk as normal.  I wish for considerate visitors who are respectful of still being in a pandemic (of course many of them are). 

I am wondering if by easing lockdown, we now fall into two camps.  The first says "we are fine, we're over the worst now and we're not going to catch coronavirus.  We don't need to worry and we can just get on and enjoy life again.  Hurray!  Let's start to carry on as normal now!"

The other camp says "I'm not so sure about this, coronavirus is still here in the UK and highly infectious.  More movement means potentially more spread and an increase in cases.  If we aren't cautious, we could have a second wave."   As you guessed, I resonate with this camp.  Maybe I am being even more careful when I see people on the beach being too relaxed, as if I will somehow balance out the carefree approach?

I miss the unity of lockdown, where we were all working together for a common good.  It felt simple in its essence, most of us just had to stay home and hope to stay well.  Now leaving my house, I feel overwhelmed by people, noise and cars.  I feel like I am still in some kind of collective shock and grief for all the tens of thousands of affected people and families.  We have just been through such a challenging time, and we're not yet through the other side.

To me, it just seems too quick to be suddenly partying on the beach.  I have close friends still "shielding" for weeks to come.  My father is fairly chirpy in his care home, but has had no visitors for two months.  He has to eat alone in his room because it's not safe for residents to eat together in the dining room.  This makes me cry just to think about it.  My wish is that these "vulnerable"people can emerge with us too.  It doesn't seem fair that some of us can now be outdoors more, when many cannot. 

But am I going to stay indoors all summer long?  All I can do is what feels right at the moment, which is to emerge for the shortest of times when things look as quiet as possible.  My daily walks are being re-routed or timed to avoid the crowds.  And I set myself one tiny task, to sit on the beach when it is very quiet.  So on Sunday evening, when cool and empty after all the visitors had gone home, we crept outside and just sat.  It was the first time in two months that I had sat outside (as this wasn't allowed, only exercise).  How did it feel?  Both a relief to sit peacefully in nature and just strange... so familiar yet months before I didn't have to think about infection rates or hand washing.  And I didn't feel this slightly "shell-shocked" feeling that I have now.

Each change in a pandemic is an adjustment, so I remind myself to take my time just like those brave rehabilitated primates exploring their new environment.  At some point, my desire to venture a bit further from my home will no doubt outweigh my caution.  All I need to do is patiently take one step at a time when I'm ready.