in the fall, in a pandemic.
Filed under Essay.
Those greens are misleading: there’s always a strange microclimate up the mountain, just a few blocks from where we live. The leaves here always linger before turning. Back home, red and orange dominate.
I think we’ve settled into a quiet acceptance. Cases are back to levels we hadn’t seen since spring. Jacob will now attend school one day out of two—live school, that is; he’ll spend the other one online.
He’s 17 today, our boy. It’s awfully hard to believe and yet...of course he is. Nothing in this world can alter that course. Not even pandemonium.
Cynthia’s baking a cake. We rescued a lost dog this morning and returned it to its owner, a few hours later. I’ll be watching that debate tonight, breathing slowly and hoping for the best. And all of it will be over by the time you read these words.
Yup…those greens are misleading.
