Cottaging in the age of Covid-19

Stuck inside, rummaging through old cottage photos as a mid-April snow coats the lawn furniture, and spring buds wear little white caps. It might as well snow, can’t go out anyhow because the air might be poisoned. This reminds me of childhood back in the last century when a shadowy monster roamed the neighbourhood looking for children to cripple. Polio. We didn’t talk about it much, and had no idea what it looked like or even how big it was, but it was there. To my six year old mind it was something out of Disney, black-shrouded, skulking in the bushes, lurking in the mud puddles. No, you may not go outside after a rain storm, you might get polio. Now it’s a sci-fi monster, Covid-19, that blows in vaporous clouds and sticks to your skin, seeps into your lungs and strangles you from inside your body. By the time you feel it you’re liable to be a goner. Acres of coffins wait for burial in mass graves in NYC; ambulances line up at the back doors of nursing homes to carry away the dead. This can’t be happening. Sorry, it is. We’re all six years old again and we’ve been told to stay inside. So we shudder and obey. Back to the photos, wondering if this is all we’ll see of Rebel’s Isle this year. Could be. Until they clang the all-clear bell we’re sticking to social distancing. I think when the authorities say to stay home they mean “STAY HOME”. I gather not everyone agrees with this. I read on the social media that there are many who will defy the dictum and assert their right to enjoy their cottages no matter what. They may have a point, after all what is more socially distanced than a cottage up north? Heck, we’d be isolated on an island 400 feet from shore. How is that worse than staying in town? The flaw in that thinking is if everybody thought that way cottage country would swarm, as it does every year, with thousands of people –but a portion of them will be carrying the virus this year. An unwelcome gift that keeps on giving. Let’s face it, we’re not really welcome this year, nor should we be. Unfortunately those who’ll defy the stay-home order are the same people who think none of the other rules of society apply to them either. These are the same people who speed flat-out up narrow channels bouncing your boats against the docks. These are the self-justified pleasure seekers who cruise the lake at 2AM playing their music loud so they can hear it over the motor – with at least one drunken woman shouting her vacuous observations even louder to be heard. Lady, if you’re reading this you know who you are. Not that you’d care. This is when we should all break out the potato cannons, which would be highly satisfying if we could score a few direct hits in the middle of the night. Do I need to go on? No, enough already, this rant gets played out on docks everywhere every season and nothing changes. There will be a cure for the virus; we’ll never cure selfish and stupid. Scientists say the harder we clamp down on this virus now, the sooner we’ll get back to some form of normal. To me that offers hope that the whole season might not be lost. Judging from the good-spirited way I see most people conducting themselves I have hope that we’ll get this thing under control. Bless you all who respect each others safety. To you self-justified pleasure seekers who’ll ignore the danger and come up anyway, enjoy your best summer ever. There won’t be many of you so you’ll have the lake almost to yourselves. You’ll probably miss the noise, but you can’t have everything, can you? The only others who’ll be there are those who live on Kosh all year round. Try to keep away from them. Please. On the other hand I encourage the rest of you to mix freely, socialize, pass the dube and suck on it. To all our good neighbours, see you when they turn the lights back on. Stay safe.