Although I’m not much of an idiot when it comes to attempting April Fool’s pranks that are lame or go unnoticed, I do believe the greatest April Fool’s prank I ever pulled off was on my father. When you read the story, you’ll understand why I don’t attempt many any more.

Here’s the background: My parents had two large shakers for salt and pepper that were always available for meals. They had a white ceramic base or storage compartment that would easily fill the palm of your hand. Yes, they were that large! The tops were metal and screwed onto the ceramic base. Getting a hint where this is going?

Dad, having grown up on a farm, loved eggs for breakfast every morning. He was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. When we lived in Tulsa and he came from Wisconsin to visit, we took him to a fancy restaurant for brunch. They served quiche and other delicacies on the buffet but Dad’s comment was: “Where’s the meat?”

Back to the story. Long before breakfast was served that April 1st morning, I slipped into the kitchen and surreptitiously loosened the cap on the pepper shaker. Then I resumed normal activities and played the innocent son as breakfast was served.

When my father grabbed the pepper shaker to season his eggs, my heart raced a bit but I tried to remain calm and not give away my secret. The lid came off and pepper doused Dad’s eggs in the black condiment to his visible astonishment. I recall his comment starting with something like, “What the?” but I had to bite my lip and remain as stunned as everyone else.

I didn’t have the nerve to exclaim: “April Fool’s!”

Dad likely went to his grave assuming it was a freak accident while I consider it my greatest April Fool’s prank…and don’t do those any more.

It’s Sunday, the 29th of March. Day seven of Corona (Chinese) virus self-isolation (quarantine). I have not been in a public place since last Sunday when I ventured out for some basic groceries. Fortunately my spouse and I had a decent stockpile of necessities before entering this period of insulation from other human beings.

We have communicated with our children and grandchildren via electronic channels, but this scary pandemic and self-isolation strip us of being able to hug family members or share a meal with them. Distance also separates us.

We have gone for walks, taking care to avoid close contact with other people. I have visited with my neighbor briefly in his driveway, keeping the requisite six feet of social distancing between us. We’ve had basic groceries delivered, thanks to our daughters.

So…here I am at day 7 of self-isolation. Closets have been cleaned out. Papers have been filed or recycled. All the laundry has been done, including outside clothng several times now. Trying to follow the guidelines. Washing hands according to the CDC. Drinking lots of spring water. Resting.

The bad part is there are no sports to watch on television. Odds are that high school spring sports programs are likely to be cancelled since school’s are closed indefinitely. That eliminates my soccer official’s contracts if it happens…and the accompanying compensation. In my mind, soccer is one of those sports that enables athletes to keep a distance from most of the other players on the pitch and the fans…most parents…able to socially distance themselves as well. But, with no school, there’s no athletics.

I am thankful for my faith, my ability to write, the family tree I’m trying to build online, and my therapy pet, Charley. He’s a rescue cat that I’ve trained fairly well. He enjoys chasing a toy mouse that I throw and he retrieves. He follows me to the basement to do laundry and comes back up when I call him…or when he gets out in the garage. Besides my wife, Charley’s a good companion.

So far we’ve avoided any viral infection. We’ll see what day 8 brings.

Stay well and practice safe distancing.

There is no better way to experience solitude than in the forest, especially if it is in near wilderness. That’s one of the side benefits of deer hunting in Wisconsin. Solitude.

Where I hunt is known specifically only to those who also hunt the property. That gives every hunter the solitude of their won “territory” where being able to harvest a deer can be done safely. High-powered deer rifles are designed to be deadly. Extreme caution is required to avoid accidents.

Being safe is critical to feeling a sense of solitude.

Sitting in a collapsible blind still requires a minimum of movement to avoid spooking deer that may come near during hunting hours. It also isolates the hunter from the elements and observation by other humans. Solitude.

Solitude is precious. It takes a being away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, the pressure of city living, and the stress of whatever curves life throws your way. Solitude gives you time to think, time to reflect, time to consider options. It is peaceful. It is quiet. It is energizing. It is refreshing.

The camaraderie of deer camp is special. Shared meals. Hunting stories. Work projects. Cards. Alcohol. Friendship. That’s rifle season; 9 days in late November in Wisconsin.

I also bow hunt and that gives me even more opportunities to enjoy the solitude of the forest…by myself. Whether I harvest an animal is less important than being able to rejuvenate my spirit and deepen my faith.

Solitude.

Originally published in 1981 on page 207 of The World’s Great Contemporary Poems, edited by Eddie-Lou Cole

A frontier

to explore strange atmospheres

and probe the depths of

uncertainty,

broadening horizons

and yielding room to grow.

A vision

of touching divinity’s aura

and opening the mind to life,

expanding dimensions

and dispelling myths of time.

A dream

of survival.