March 18, 2020 - Dispatches from SIP

Today I would have been prepping for a trip to the foothills of the Sierras, to a retreat to work on my two writing projects.  Snow and a warm cabin; this was the generous offer from friends that I had to turn down.  Instead, I am sticking close to home and sheltering in place.

Took a walk late in the afternoon as we often do on the marsh trail along the levee near our house,  sun muted from heavy clouds, rain seemingly just around the corner. Little egrets fished along the edges, poking long bills into small ponds, shaking long toes to lure fish closer to them.  Where we might have seen five or six people at other times jogging or walking their dogs along the levee, today we saw twenty-five or so, all of us keeping our distance. The nice thing? We all say hello or how are you, even as we consciously step away from each other. Perhaps because of these avoidance steps, the greetings might be a way to mitigate what would be seen as rudeness under other circumstances.

From the back yards of the nearby neighborhood houses, come the yells and loud laughter of children, running around, blowing off steam, tossing balls. No school, no after-school activity. Suddenly this place feels more inhabited, more full of life - even if from a six-foot distance.

Because I do want to work on these book projects, I have set up a work space in the garage, where I feel set off even in my isolation. It's a bit rough, but I think it will serve its purpose.

These are unsettled times, and it's difficult to think of near future, the purported end of The Isolations. But we will get there, by hook or by crook, with the help and support of friends and family.