Another percussive morning, pale blues painted upon a grey background, shapes forming gradually as the scented cup drags senses together. More rain, colder, a day for a woolly hat.


Cycling towards the hills, temples seem busier today, sticks of incense standing upright in shining bowls guarded by dragons, scents drifting into the streets. Tables heavy with fruit and boxes of cakes and biscuits, bottles of the local schnapps to ward off the chill. In the alleys and along the roadside braziers burn, tongues of fire rising from them, brightening the dull air as figures gather clutching offerings to the dead, dropping them into the flames. But, other than these scenes, it feels quieter again, the air weighed down by the unseen. It's odd how the context alters the perception, these figures gathered around images of gods and goddesses, chatting masked as others bow, sticks of incense in their hands, the influences of faith spreading out in this moment offering some comfort in these times of uncertainty.


Later, back at the flat, catching up with social media, I stumble upon a post, a series of comments on 5G and its connection to the virus and make the mistake of reading it. I recall articles about masts being burned, another conspiracy theory, scanning them with a grin at the time, finding humour in the absurdity of it all, but here they are again, another type of virus. It baffles me that this shit is being taken seriously, flat earthers invoking the refrain of the ages, urgently seeking some kind of scapegoat to explain events and to attach blame to. But it also makes a kind of sense. This pandemic seems to have upended anything approaching certainty, revealed the systematic flaws of the course which has defined the last few decades, maybe the start of a realignment but almost certainly a change in perspective. Maybe in the end we just revert to type, seek answers in the heavens, in celestial events, comets and super moons influencing us, gods and revelations offering balm against the chill, the sudden clarity of our fragility reinforced by guidelines and headlines allowing the absurd the opportunity to flourish, the ridiculous to flower.