I take the word to mean, events outside of one's control that prohibit and restrict all movements outside of one's own home; the inability to venture outside
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I did not know or comprehend the deep fear associated with apocalyptic events until I moved to the Willamette Valley of Oregon. Previously, the only reasons I could not leave my house of my own healthy accord were due to weather, snowstorms, lighting and such.
Here, the first widespread incident I encountered was simply called "fire season". The months of July and August, wherein no rainfall is normal, and grass and trees turn to tinder. Smoke fills the air turning the skies a sickly yellow, stagnant and thick. The ability to breathe becomes compromised. Masks, particle masks do help filter out some of the airborne hazards but going outdoors requires caution and preparation; it is no longer a given.
I've had to learn to check sources for air quality, daily and hourly, and how many supplies I need to have on hand for each day during fire season.
I had never experienced the air around me, all of it, everywhere, as something dangerous and hazardous, and not healthy to breathe before. Sour. I learned to read the color of the sky to determine healthy versus nonhealthy air. Every year in Oregon, we have fire season, like a normal season, it varies in severity. That was my first awakening.
The virus was another. Too complicated to talk about here much. People became carriers, spreaders and sickness and death threatened. One could not leave one's house under general order and common sense. A bigger topic yet generally agreed to be a major life experience.
Today, I write as I endure day four of being confined due to ice. There is but an inch or two of snow covered neatly with a coating of slick ice. I cannot venture off my porch without grabbing hold of the railing. I haven't been able to walk the 50 feet to my frozen car to start it or warm it up. No trips to get groceries. It's apocalyptic in its scope.
All traffic, well, most car travel has stopped. My first indication that something was amiss was when I awoke Saturday morning and the familiar sound of cars nearby was absent. The typical birds could not be heard either. The distant highway, which I could hear if I listened hard enough, it too was completely silent. All Stop. Something was wrong, and widespread.
The silence signaled a massive event in which all people, all everyday normalacy was stopped. People became trapped, once again, within their homes with the supplies they had on hand. There was no way out. To me, that is apocalyptic when one is confined against their will by external forces beyond their control.
It becomes a waiting game. Waiting for some beneficial external forces to appear, whether that be a strong wind or a sunny, warm sky.
I have become aware and learned so much about my self and others through these far-reaching, majorly disruptive and captivating events.
Maybe tomorrow the Sun will shine and melt the ice and people can buy food, get medicine, go to school and back to work.
I take nothing for granted, especially the air I breathe and the ability to leave my house. I stay supplied. I watch the weather reports. And I'm always praying the Wind is in my favor.
