The Spring Equinox is a time that usually marks the beginning of a life outdoors, when the frost begins to thaw just enough for us to venture out and breathe in. However, this year, we marched indoors and had to learn to breathe carefully. Life finally slowed, and, at first, my body and mind filled with relief.

The first indication life was changing was the airplanes. Or the lack of them. The 5:30 a.m. jet has been fairly consistent, but early evenings are now stark, without the line of planes emanating from the east.

I live in New Orleans, Louisiana. As of today, I know five people that have died from the COVID-19 pandemic. Five people. So far.

For these strange, sad, and sometimes redemptive times, we’ve created a place for all writers, everywhere, to contribute. We ask that your contribution be driven by specific experiences and or observations of the daily life around you, how it is as well as how it’s changed, amid the crisis of COVID-19.

A storm rolls in that looks to be of some size and I am steadfastly committed to not letting the world write me. It grows larger, closer, and somehow, more normal.