Sheltering Within A Fog Bubble

Sep 18, 2020 | 0 comments

I’m no longer sure if the visual boundaries of our world are marked by fog or smog or smoke.  It doesn’t smell smokey, but it doesn’t lift, either, like fog normally does.  It just hangs and limits our vision to a small diameter of a few hundred yards.

On top of the almost 200 days of sheltering, these visual constraints put me in mind of the old Star Trek episodes, each of which included the stardate.  I’m thinking I should label each of my Oysterville Daybook entries with a Covid Date.  This one would be “From The Oysterville Daybook, CovidDate 190.”  It would be a sort of verbal insurance:  even if the day (and, therefore, the blog) seemed repetitive, there would be a change in digits.

No wonder prisoners often tally the days on their cell walls.  Sameness robs us of memory and of hope.  And, tucked in there somewhere are desire and imagination and ambition.  When those disappear, woe be unto us.

I choose to think that Annie was right:  “The sun will come out tomorrow…”



Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *