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.