It is bleak indeed. Over four hundred thousand people dead of Covid, insurrection at the Capitol, inequity rolling on and on. And it is cold and dark.
I’ve been spending my weekends building a brick path down the middle of the front garden, since I cannot work with plants. Being outside doing something feels like a desperate need, not a pleasant hobby.
Spring will come. The vaccine will come. I know that. But I also know there is a long cold season to get through before they do.