Despite it being April, or the month of jokes, things are far from funny. Again. And not just because of the switch to summer time, which makes it impossible to understand when one should wake up, grab lunch or go to sleep. Being thoroughly confused, I did all three simultaneously on Monday, meaning I woke up at the same time I went to sleep while also managing to eat lunch, which caused a fair bit of excitement at my local fast food place.

The phenomenon of switching to and from daylight savings is made unique also by the fact that each minute of the recently arrived summer time that passes leads us further away from the 2018 news story "European Union to stop changing clocks next year" while bringing us no closer to news titled "EU stops changing the clocks." This space-time paradox would surely grip Albert Einstein, were he still alive.

But winter or summer time ultimately makes little difference, because now it's drone time! Earlier trial warnings and tests of alarm systems have seamlessly been replaced by real warnings and alarms.

Many learned Tuesday morning that while they slept, a drone warning had been issued telling them to stay vigilant, as well as that the alarm had been called off before they could tear themselves away from dreams no doubt filled with Finance Minister Jürgen Ligi's wise and witty one-liners.

News of an aerial threat, issued for all of Estonia or more narrowly precisely where you live, inevitably causes anxiety and provokes thought on how to react immediately and how to prepare for next time.

As concerns threat warnings, mishaps are to be expected due to the situation being new and both technical and human systems needing further development and fine-tuning. I believe messages will become more accurate in time and while one might currently expect rather vague warnings of drones somewhere in the county, I'm sure it will be all but commonplace to read, "Hi. Meiel, there is a drone behind you. Hide now!" in the not-too-distant future.

While such communications-related marvels might take a little more time, preparedness is key today. For example, the country grandma of a family I know has been preparing very thoroughly, starting a few years ago when she pickled dozens of jars of cucumbers to lob at hostile aerial vehicles should the need arise.

Recent days' threat messages have made the old lady even more active. She virtually hasn't slept at night for a long time, because that would run the risk of missing threat alerts before morning, by which time it would probably be too late. Now, she walks around phone in hand, hauling whatever provisions she can get her hands on down to the basement. This includes a sack full of cash. Where she got it and whose bank account it originally came from no one knows, because she is a poor pensioner.

Because said grandma lives in the woods near the sea, birds on their spring migration pass over her plot. Her eyesight not being what it used to, she sees a drone in every squadron of geese that passes overhead.

Finally, in desperate need of sleep, she locked herself into the basement where she survives on seed potatoes and beer left over from Midsummer. It has been a long time since the family last saw her, because she lets no one into the basement. While they agreed on a password ("I am not a drone"), distrust is among the strongest beliefs in this world.

From what little information is available, it seems grandma's friend who lives in a nursing home is doing even worse. Should a threat alert come at night, the residents are hauled out of bed and driven to the nearest shelter at the county center 70 kilometers away. Once it's safe to come out, the sleepy retirees are driven back.

The home's bus driver is so rattled by the endless there-and-back-again trips that he has vowed to land the bus in the Red Square in Moscow next time to, in his own words, finally get done what should have been done long ago.

Some patients refused to partake in the circus and set up in the nursing home's canteen instead, declaring the "People's Republic of the Cafeteria" open, the coat of arms of which bears a long-trunked gas masked a gentleman had lifted from the Red Army and the national anthem of which is called "There's not a damn thing we fear" to the tune of "From Heaven Above to Earth I Come."

Therefore, there are many ways in which a person can react to threat messages and drones literally falling from the sky. It's possible to overreact, which is not good, and it's possible to just relax, which isn't much better. And so, the best course of action is moderation. Still, keep a wary eye on flocks of birds, because you never can tell with bees.

--

Follow ERR News on Facebook and X and never miss an update!