The sun glistens on the water, wild daisies shimmer in the breeze near my feet, and the warmth from the rock seeps into my hips. Tiny waves lap on the rocky shore. A stand-up paddler passes, barely a wake behind her, and I wonder in this quiet, do I really want this quarantine to end?
Adaptation comes little by little, accepting what I must, embracing what I can, trying to not tip over. I can do this, I can do this. I have no choice.
I spent an afternoon purposefully looking down, taking in the things I take for granted in my neighborhood as I reel repeatedly, round and round. I suddenly noticed art on the ground, lines and patterns, color and texture, life at a different level. It's something new anyway, a novelty in my shrinking world.
Wise and funny friends Give their best advice Four words or fewer Maybe all you need
What will be my Quarantine Story, what tales will I tell in five years, or 10 or 20? Will it be a story of victory or sadness, revelation or survival, entertainment or boredom, or even joy? Which stories will last, and which will be of the moment?
It snowed on Saturday, as the first person in our city died. It was a milestone that brought everything into relief. No going back, only forward. The first one - so much in that short phrase. Until now, no one in our city died of Coronavirus. Until now, and it won't be the last. The … Continue reading The First One
So many ways to die, I think, as I walk out my door The proverbial bus A stroke, a heart attack, cancer, acute appendicitis You have your own favorites I'm sure. If not death, then discomfort and suffering At the grandkids' school Pinworms, head lice, chicken pox, norovirus We went to get our shingles vaccine. … Continue reading Calculated Risk