Writing in the time of COVID-19: Day Ninety Nine

Writing got me through 72 consecutive days of the pandemic. Then, I stopped. At the time, with lives being lost to violence and violence erupting from the protests to the violence, it didn’t seem right to continue writing about something as regular as the white-rumped shama chicks fledging from their nest outside my office window….

Writing in the time of COVID-19: Day Seventy Nine

One week ago, I wrote my my 72nd consecutive mini essay since starting these daily reports in the early days of the COVID-19 shelter-at-home pandemic. Then, I went quiet. It’s not like I ran out of material; I had a list of possible topics and experiences to share. But my voice felt frivolous in the…

Writing in the time of COVID-19: Day Seventy Two

Two colorful banana spiders have replaced my spider-friend, and even though they may be her offspring, I just don’t have the same relationship with them. I suppose it’s because they’re not my first. Too, they have not yet taught me anything more fascinating about their spider ways. Yet. I’ll keep watching. It’s Sunday morning, and…

Writing in the time of COVID-19: Day Seventy One

“At this time, weather is a go for launch,” the voice on the TV said. It was Bob and Doug’s Big Adventure, Part Two.  You could also call it Elon Musk’s Big Idea. The announcers made a big deal of the fact that this would be the first time in almost a decade that astronauts…

Writing in the time of COVID-19: Day Seventy

Snails have faces. That’s the title of an essay I read this morning by Paul Gruchow, and that’s the image I’m holding onto this somber morning, as I wake to even more distressing news in our country. A black man killed by a kneeling police officer in Minneapolis. A white woman choking her dog and…