Last night we enjoyed and savored cheese fondue for dinner.  That’s our usual special winter dish, but sheltering-in-place fosters the awareness that every night is a special occasion, and therefore a desire for comfort foods is accompanied by wine.

As we dip our forks, we visualize ourselves in Switzerland, in Grindelwald, viewing and being part of the Alps.

Restrictions will loosen May 4th.  Gardeners can come.  I used to do the gardening myself but part of our yard is fenced with a Japanese garden that rises up a steep slope.  I’m not of an age to tackle that so I’ve been watching the plants stretch and lose their shape and form.  I’m doing the same.

Through this, it’s become even more clear we’re not all in the same boat even though we share disbelief and grief.

One can’t compare a virus and war but that more Americans have died in 100 days than during eight years of major combat in the Vietnam War is sobering, and of course that doesn’t count the number of Vietnamese who died and whose land was poisoned.  

We’re learning we’re in this together.  My breath is yours, and yours is mine, and back and forth we go between you and me, and plants and trees, as we sweep the air like a crust of bread swirling through melted cheese.

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