Life Under Lockdown

Life Under Lockdown 

I’m writing this thinking of my lungs.  This is an unusual first sentence to use, but they are not functioning as normal lungs are supposed, and haven’t for quite some time.  As a youngster I had numerous asthma attacks, with the severe ones usually during holidays.  I can remember concentrating on every breath during these attacks, each being a struggle where lack of oxygen increased desperation, these attacks were not pleasant.  I also remember being told that a person cannot die due to an asthma attack, I now know this can happen, whether it was said to calm me or whether it was then believed that these attacks were not fatal, I do not know.

Thankfully I haven’t had a severe asthma attack in decades, but the remnants of wheeziness where my lungs struggle to have sufficient oxygen intake are a constant reminder that these important organs are not functioning as they should.  However, they see me by.

As a child I was never any good at prolonged physical sport, my lungs could not cope.  I enjoyed playing football and later badminton, but it was only the discovery of hill walking where I could stride out in fresh air that I realised that I could do a form of physical exercise at my leisure, and one that I was able to cope with, and enjoy its rigours, and this instilled in me a sense of physical belonging.  I found I could walk mile after mile and my lungs were able to cope; those tubes that become inflamed during an asthma attack remained open and sucked in oxygen to their hearts content.  I haven’t looked back ever since.  Until now.

A reminder of the unusual and worrying times we are living through

The thought of catching Covid-19 does not enthuse me.  It would in all likelihood make a complete and utter mess of my lungs.  I take my daily exercise from my home most days, otherwise I am now self-isolating.  I am not one of the many who have serious underlying health issues and who have self-isolated even before the lock-down was imposed in late March.  Some of these people have immune systems that have been battered by medicated drugs where the onset of Covid-19 would, in all probability, be fatal.  I do not know if my lungs could cope with this virus.  I would prefer not to find out.

Life under lockdown goes on.  I am fortunate with where I live.  My home town is Welshpool, which is situated in the Severn valley and topographically this is placed in north Wales, however ask any local and they would say that this town is firmly in the heartland of mid Wales.  Whether my home town is in north or mid, it is beautifully placed and nestles between prominent hills, with Moel y Golfa, Cefn Digoll, Y Golfa and Upper Park all within striking distance and all classified as Marilyns, whilst Yr Allt is within easy walking distance and qualifies as a Hump.  I am fortunate indeed.

Welshpool with Yr Allt, Moel y Golfa and Cefn Digoll in the background

As the Covid-19 virus spread, Europe became infected and many countries imposed lock-down restrictions, the like of which had not been experienced in our lifetime.  Outside exercise is permitted once a day, and in Wales only from the confines of one’s home, driving a short distance to exercise is not permitted.  These are drastic measures, but understandable.  Such restrictions have imposed a way of life that is at odds with the natural way of things.  But for now they are necessary.

The lock-down is now entering its sixth week and the death toll in the UK due to Covid-19 has surpassed 26,000.  With every statistical death a person who was loved by family and friends; tragic losses due to a virus that incapacitates and attacks airwaves and lungs.  It is a hidden killer.

My daily routine has altered, like everyone else’s.  My world has become smaller and yet on a local level it has also opened up, with walks to places I otherwise would not visit, and neighbours who I rarely saw now a part of social distancing gathering during a Thursday evening, when showing support for care workers who face the virus head-on takes place. 

Thursday evening at 8pm

When I first stood on my doorstep ready to clap and show support I found the experience rather humbling.  Images of people in Italy and Spain where Covid-19 was wreaking havoc and applause and singing was a sign of strength and support flashed across my mind’s eye.  Those statistics from other countries were now a part of ours and the meeting of people to show support, even on a local level, and even just once a week, was a sign that combined responsibility created strength in numbers and personal feelings were shared by and amongst many.

The Montgomeryshire Canal

As well as being beautifully placed in the Severn valley; Welshpool also has a part of the Montgomeryshire Canal passing through it.  The canal towpath is no more than three minutes’ walk from where I live and it gives access to countryside that in such times is a godsend.

Evening light from the towpath

The lockdown has created a quieter way of life, less reliant upon what seemed daily necessities, and more concentrated on a local level, and for one who has enjoyed visiting the hills and the customary freedom this has given me for over 30 years, these small ventures onto the towpath has opened up an appreciation of the wonderful wildlife that a waterway such as a canal can give.

New growth

It seems ironic that since lockdown the weather has been unusually settled with blue skies and unseasonably warm conditions giving the sunniest April since records began.  These have highlighted new growth and new life.  Hedgerows and trees are now coloured with fresh growth and birds are now settled having built intricate nests, or in the case of my local nesting swan; a rather large mismatch of faded reed and grass.

My local nesting swan

Walking on this towpath has given me a fleeting sense of freedom.  It has also given me some wonderful moments when some of the smaller residents of the intricate web of wildlife visit; I’ve looked at the iridescent and veined wings of a resting dragonfly as it seemed content to be landed on my leg, the sunlight enhancing its luminescent greens.  A small blue butterfly wandering my palm and fingers, tasting its new surrounds with its extended proboscis, and the flitting of dusk laden bats as their silhouettes danced across the evening sky.

The towpath has also enabled access to an occasional extended walk, where instead of a 20 minute stroll a full hour of exercise has been enjoyed.  This enables height to be gained, not to any summit, but at least to a view of the higher mountains, and if timed correctly it also means that one can stare out in longing to those higher summits as the sun casts its last magical spell before setting in the western sky.

Sunset behind Aran Benllyn

These brief walks enable a semblance of normality in what has become an otherwise abnormal and worrying world.  They give what I have become accustomed to; a brief glimpse into a natural beauty that otherwise is all too easy to miss.  The current lockdown is harsh, but necessary, and for me I am thankful to live where I do.  This at least gives me a chance to visit and appreciate things on a smaller scale than one I am accustomed to.  I just hope my lungs survive.

Myrddyn Phillips (April / May 2020)

An edited version of this article is published on the UKHillwalking website