#metoo victim of Covid19, Part II

In Western Europe we have an unusual long heatwave going on, and when it started three weeks ago I went to my favorite - and permitted - nudist hangout at a lake nearby. It's not a large field; about 50 by 100 meters at the max. I arrived early, there were about six people there already.

Within 90 minutes it had grown to about 80-100. Usually I don't care if others settle down quite close to me, but this time the lack of distancing was...uncomfortable. I put on my mask again.
I went for a swim and when I got back my spot was enclosed by newcomers. On that meadow there were no "safe spaces" anymore. I also noticed that the soft breeze came straight from the lake, and I counted the visitors - alone or in couples - there were now sitting and lying between me and that entrance to the water, a breeze that carried their hazardous air bubbles straight to me.
Except me, no one on that nudist terrain wore a mask.
I had been there for only 2 hours, but I packed my things and left. I was scared. I am 70, diabete, I'm at risk. There are not many nude beaches and meadows in my region so I would have to travel to the coast. By train, I have no car. Trains are coffins, these days. I biked home, feeling depressed. Because at the coastal nude resorts it would be the same. People recreating in epidemic denial.
It was over, I realized.

There's a little light shining- I have a nice little garden so full plants and shrubs and small trees that I can cloth myself in it, but mostly I sit on my porch, overlooking all the greeneries and flowers. On that porch neighbors on upper balconies and from back windows need binoculars to see my innocent and decently sized privvies, before they call the police.
Nevertheless, dammit Covid19, you took something away from me.

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