I wake in the middle of the night knowing something in the air has changed. The neighborhood has reached a silence that can only mean one thing. I wait for it in the dark with nothing but the sound of my own breath, and finally…there. There it is.
Another season quietly arrives in the predawn hours on the tail of the setting moon, and I can no longer sleep. Alert with anticipation, I stare into the shadows.
Hello old friend.
It’s been six months since Covid first made headlines as it began its sweep through New York City. Six months since the endless scream of sirens racing up and down our streets forever changed our understanding of fear and faith. Six months since we were first truly awoken, as a collective, to the reality of what it means and should mean to be alive.
Alright, our first Apocalypse Meal! We’re a little over a week into self-isolating in most places, and here in NY, we’re a couple of days into the shelter-in-place order, which is going…well, it’s going. That’s about all that can be said at this point, and since we’re all participating in the going together, separately, I’ve decided that I’m GOING to go nuts in this tiny fox den if I don’t stay busy and away from the news. So, let’s dig in!
But, I mean, I’ve already started clocking the exact minute the sunlight changes in each window for maximum vitamin D exposure.