I went outside early this morning hoping to see the fawn, still dappled, that Steve saw yesterday.  I sat with the Redwood tree, listening to tweeting but I didn’t hear the fawn which sounds like a small goat bleating.  

Parent and baby birds are tweeting away these days.  It’s a lovely way to wake.

I’m starting to realize we have a long way to go on shelter-in-place.  Two nearby restaurants that expanded from take-out between the hours of four and eight, to six tables, are now completely closed, because employees have the virus.

I can’t imagine eating out.  I woke from a dream this morning where I was in a car with a friend.  Who would have thought that closeness would occur only in dreams, and yet this morning though I didn’t see or hear the fawn, I felt myself as fawn and tree and birds, as greeting to the sun.