From my last posts you might know that recent weeks have reminded me of the joys and griefs of progress, if progress is the right word, change is better perhaps. The joys and griefs of being outside after a long time of not, and the joys and griefs of being reminded of what that used to be like.
Getting out to do a little more, I’ve seen people I haven’t seen in years, and in turn been reminded by place and people of other losses. It’s a time of readjusting, recognition of time passed, what has and hasn’t been missed for so long, things otherwise forgotten or adjusted to without thought. I’ve been swimming in partial memories in recent weeks. They’ve been revisited, particular fragments lodged in my memory have been jostled around in being nudged at. It truly feels like I live in a different place to the one I used to. This might be in part the passing of time, but also, as Susan Sontag wrote, my own travels between ‘the kingdom of the sick’ and the ‘kingdom of the well’ - each requiring different passports, different languages. Perhaps it would be easier to regard them as different countries.
After my recent trip out, to see a friend and some of her wonderful art work, and then bumping into people I knew from that ‘other place’ and the ‘before times’ (pre-illness), I stopped at the supermarket to collect emergency supplies for the imminent crash in energy. The excitement of being out, of seeing friends and being reminded a little of my life before, delighted that people remembered and recognised me, that I had continued to exist outside as well as in, it was all a bit overwhelming. I came home exhausted and in pain but thrilled to have been reconnected with these parts of my life, and another sense of self, I had forgotten about.
The next day, my body slowly ground to a halt again. I felt cold all day, wrapped up in blankets with the fire lit, jumping through instagram, Facebook, and twitter, rewatching boxsets and willing the day to end so that it would be tomorrow, with the hope tomorrow might bring a little more energy again. Looking for alternatives to endless streams of reality, and unreality, online, I found a website I’d not spotted before, Earth Cam. It has a page of webcams from around the world you can watch in real time. I listened to live music in a pub in Temple Bar, Dublin, watched it snow on the Rockies in Canada, salmon in North America, and tropical fish in a Boston aquarium. My favourite was Niagara Falls in Canada, somewhere I have also visited in ‘real life’. You can zoom in too for a close up.
I’m conscious of my liberal use of the word ‘real’ here in terms of distinction between access in person and access online, and I feel the need for a better term, or at least to clarify. This online access is no less ‘real’. Online and in person are different ways of attending and engaging in ‘real’ life.
Online access was a lifeline for so many of us during the lockdowns in the early months of the pandemic. How quickly and easily it was a routine consideration when everyone was at home alone. The last couple of years have seen fewer opportunities for joining in with things at distance. Greater online access to writers and poets helped to make Moving Mountains what it is, online access to conferences and universities helped me to consider and plan a PhD. I wonder what other incredible things have developed because of this greater access that was afforded.
This week I’ve had online access to a conference I wouldn’t have been able to get to without the internet. It’s one a friend was presenting at and I wrote to ask if it could be streamed online. Sometimes this works and access is arranged if it isn’t already planned, so do keep asking. This particular one has been the first where there was a dedicated person following and engaging with those of us joining online. She showed us the audience, spinning her computer around, and checked the sound, she made sure we could see the slides and the speakers, and read out our questions. I felt more engaged with the conference than I have with many I’ve attended in person. I had to work harder at it, there weren’t many people online and I felt I had to show my appreciation for it being made available because I’d asked and they had agreed. Commenting in the chat and keeping track of the online activity as well as the speakers in the room was more effort, but it has shown me just how much difference can be made when things are not just accessible because there’s a webcam, but because there’s an attentive person at the end of that webcam too. A recognition that there are other people online who are no less real to the ones in the room makes a difference!
Other webcams, which aren’t hosted but are available to dip in and out of that I look out for, include the Ocean Exploration with NOAA (currently in port this week but check back after 21st June), the link highlighted also has other links to research vessels and their work. My absolutely favourite find though is the Nautilus Live, a deep sea research sub. I’m very excited to see that it is again in transit and the live feed is set up on this link here for anyone who wants to follow their work. I’ve spent hours watching the view from their sub as it travels along the bottom of the ocean from my sofa or bed. Additionally, enjoying the chat and comments of the people in and following the sub from the ship at the surface, noticing and identifying creatures they see. It is a wonderful window to the ocean and the research there.
There are also more ocean webcams - above and below the water - collected on this website here. For more ground and air based nature, there are now live webcams set up for this year’s BBC Springwatch on this link. I’m watching the newly fledged blue tits and gold finches from my sofa today that are hopping around in my garden reminding I need to fill the feeders.
So if you, like me, have to spend time in stillness indoors and are at a loss sometimes of what to do (if you are able to tolerate light and sound), there are many gentle and accessible ways of connecting with the world around you. If you are up to more active engagement at times, Zooniverse has some wonderful citizen science projects that you can engage with and contribute to from your sofa. There are many enormously varied projects you can participate in (as little or as much as you choose, and at your own time and speed). Currently there is wildlife watching in Kenya, a spider crab project, and cloud spotting on Mars, to choose from.
I’d love to know if you have other online ways of engaging with the world around you and any favourite webcam finds. Add any links in the comments below.
Have a great week.
I`ve just started to read your substack after watching the Wild Woman Writors salon. I`m interested in your PHD subject, as someone who has ME and fibro, as the beach at Pett level is my sanctuary and has been for years. Is there a link to anything you have written about this or is it still in its early days? Will continue to read with interest!
I loved this. In my day job - I design events - which during covid became designing online events and its great to hear an online attendee perspective of this. In researching an event I did some online tours of a Vietnamese food market and other tourist experiences. There were also some great virtual museum tours. I will see if I can find the link if you haven’t tried that already.