Perspective

The routines of daily life keep changing as COVID-19 steamrolls its way through humanity. The county department of health where I reside announced the first confirmed case today, but we know there are more unreported cases—and that this virus does not care what county you live in or were tested in. These are simply ways for us to try to keep track of the spread in a somewhat orderly and scientific fashion.

In earlier posts, I have lamented the (temporary) losses of the most ordinary but necessary things, including eye contact and human touch. This afternoon, our governor and health director issued a mandator stay-at-home order, which is pretty much what I've been practicing since our university suspended in-person classes on the afternoon of March 10. For some of my friends, this has been or soon will be enforced even more strictly. My heart aches for them, but they live in close proximity to others, and such distancing is necessary to keep them safe, despite my own selfish needs and wants to see them and to be with them.

Today, my friend and I, who are accustomed to spending Sundays together going to church, having breakfast, and going on hikes, took one last hike for the foreseeable future before her residence goes into what they have described as a "hard closure." After we exchanged some food, books, and other items, we walked the path north while maintaining the recommended six-foot safety zone (and moving over for bikes). I miss this friend's hugs and gentle nudges. Although we plan to video chat, it won't be quite the same, so I tried to soak up as much humanity as I could today with someone who is not just my friend but is family in every way but blood.

Here is our forced perspective selfie that makes us appear physically closer than we really were. In these times, a little photo magic reminds me that we are all closer than we appear to be at this very moment.