Being an accounting of the recent and continuing pandemic and its various circumstances, from the perspective of an inhabitant of the regions lately called the Lost Quarter. Dates unknown.

Day Forty One

Today is not a day for writing. Instead, I went with my love and walked along the riverside on a perfect spring afternoon.

It was warm and cool in the same instant. The trees were beginning to show their buds and the returning song birds sang out. The current provided a steady rhythm to their songs, carrying us forward. We walked in sunshine, sharing a few words, and looking about at all the world was.