Any crisis or emergency brings out different personality traits in different individuals, and it’s interesting to observe family and friends all reacting in diverse ways to the present emergency. One young foodie friend has taken to rising at 5 a.m. to go “foraging” in wild places, collecting all sorts of plants and herbs to add to the cooking pot. Another pal, possessed of a grand piano, and sequestered in a “pod” (a household self-isolating together) with a brilliant pianist, is re-visiting the piano lessons of her girlhood. Someone else I know has reverted to smoking “like there is no tomorrow” – the crisis has convinced her that there may not be. It is tragic for those who have lost family or friends, and quarantine is depressing for those who feel even more isolated and lonely; yet human nature is so various that others relish the changed way of life. One literary grandmother I know has described the present situation as “the nearest thing to heaven on earth. No hassle!” It’s the peace and quiet and the suspension of all social obligations that appeals. Some individuals have resolved to learn life lessons from this emergency and simplify lifestyles “when this is all over”. Others have the opposite reaction: they resolve to be as gregarious as possible when they get the chance. Some parents find it hugely rewarding to be homeschooling their children. Others are taking to the wine bottle by mid-afternoon. I am catching up with much reading, listening to birdsong, and on my brief daily walks, contemplating the sea. But I’ve also been introduced to a magical new technology, called “Zoom”. Don’t ask me to explain it, but it’s suddenly much in vogue (the shares are soaring). Via electronic connection you see far-off friends and family on your screen, and they can see you. Crises always introduce new inventions. I still wish the churches were open, however.